THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


1)^^^f 


EDUCATION 

INTELLECTUAL.  MORAL,  AND   PHYSICAL 


EDUCATION 

INTELLECTUAL,    MORAL,    AND    PHYSICAL 


BY 

HERBERT  SPENCER 

AUTHOR   OF   A   SYSTEM   OF   SYNTHETIC   PHILOSOPHY 


NEW  YORK 

D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 

1900 


Copyright,  1860, 
By  D.  APFLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


L3 
574x 


PKEFACE. 


The  four  chapters  of  whicli  this  work 
consists,  originally  appeared  as  four  Review 
articles:  the  first  in  the  Westminster  Hevieio, 
the  second  in  the  JVo?'th  British  Mevieiv^  and 
the  remaining  two  in  the  British  Quarterly 
Mevieio.  Severally  treating  different  divis- 
ions of  the  subject,  but  together  forming  a 
tolerably  complete  whole,  I  originally  wrote 
them  with  a  view  to  their  republication  in  a 
united  form ;  and  they  would  some  time  since 
have  thus  appeared  in  England,  had  not  the 
proprietor  of  the  North  British  Review  re- 
fused to  let  me  include  the  one  contributed 
to  that  periodical.  This  interdict  is,  how- 
ever, of  no  effect  in  the  United  States ;  and 
some  transatlantic  friends  having  represented 


653262 


vi  PREFACE. 

to  me  that  an  American  re-issue  was  desir- 
able, I  have  revised  the  articles,  and  placed 
them  in  the  hands  of  Messrs.  D.  Appleton 
&  Co. 

H.  S. 

London,  July,  1860. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  What  knowledge  is  op  most  worth?     ...  1 

II.  Intellectual  education 88 

III.  Moral  education 162 

IV.  Physical  education 228 

vii 


Education  at  Eton,  1842-5. 


"  Balston,  our  tutor,  was  a  good  scholar  after 
the  fashion  of  the  day,  and  famous  for  Latin 
verse;  but  he  was  essentially  a  commonplace  don. 
'  Stephen  major,'  he  once  said  to  my  brother,  '  if 
you  do  not  take  more  pains,  how  can  you  ever  expect 
to  write  good  longs  and  shorts  ?  If  you  do  not  write 
good  longs  and  shorts,  how  can  you  ever  be  a  man 
of  taste?  If  you  are  not  a  man  of  taste,  how  can 
you  ever  hope  to  be  of  use  in  the  world  ? '  " 

{The  Life  of  Sir  James  Fitzjames  Stephen,  Bart,,  by  his 
brother,  Leslie  Stephen,  pp.  80-1.) 
viii 


EDUCATION. 


CHAPTER  I. 

WHAT   KNOWLEDGE    IS   OF    MOST   WORTH? 

It  has  been  truly  remarked  tliat,  in  order  of 
time,  decoration  precedes  dress.  Among  people 
who  submit  to  great  physical  suffering  that  they 
may  have  themselves  handsomely  tattooed,  ex- 
tremes of  temperature  are  borne  with  but  little 
attempt  at  mitigation.  Humboldt  tells  us  that  an 
Orinoco  Indian,  though  quite  regardless  of  bodily 
comfort,  will  yet  labour  for  a  fortnight  to  purchase 
pigment  wherewith  to  make  himself  admired;  and 
that  the  same  woman  who  would  not  hesitate  to 
leave  her  hut  without  a  fragment  of  clothing  on, 
would  not  dare  to  commit  such  a  breach  of  decorum 
as  to  go  out  unpainted.  Voyagers  uniformly  find 
that  coloured  beads  and  trinkets  are  much  more 
prized  by  wild  tribes  than  are  calicoes  or  broad- 
cloths. And  the  anecdotes  we  have  of  the  ways  in 
which,  when  shirts  and  coats  are  given,  they  turn 


-^ 


2        WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

them  to  some  ludicrous  display,  show  how  com- 
pletely the  idea  of  ornament  predominates  over 
that  of  use.  Nay,  there  are  still  more  extreme  il- 
lustrations: witness  the  fact  narrated  by  Capt. 
Sjieke  of  his  African  attendants,  who  strutted  about 
in  their  goat-skin  mantles  when  the  weather  was 
fine,  but  when  it  was  wet,  took  them  off,  folded 
them  wp,  and  went  about  naked,  shivering  in  the 
rain!  Indeed,  the  facts  of  aboriginal  life  seem  to 
indicate  that  dress  is  developed  out  of  decorations. 
And  when  we  remember  that  even  among  our- 
selves most  think  more  about  the  fineness  of  the 
fabric  than  its  warmth,  and  more  about  the  cut 
than  the  convenience — when  we  see  that  the  func- 
tion is  still  in  great  measure  subordinated  to  the 
appearance — we  have  further  reason  for  inferring 
such  an  origin. 

It  is  not  a  little  curious  that  the  like  relations 
hold  with  the  mind.  Among  mental  as  among 
bodily  acquisitions,  the  ornamental  comes  before 
the  useful.  jSTot  only  in  times  past,  but  almost  as 
much  in  our  own  era,  that  knowledge  which  con- 
duces to  personal  well-being  has  been  postponed  to 
that  which  brings  applause.  In  the  Greek  schools, 
music,  poetry,  rhetoric,  and  a  philosophy  which, 
until  Socrates  taught,  had  but  little  bearing  upon 
action,  were  the  dominant  subjects;  while  knowl- 


THE  ORNAMENTAL  PRECEDES  THE  USEFUL.       3 

edge  aiding  the  arts  of  life  had  a  very  subordinate 
place.  And  in  our  own  universities  and  schools  at 
the  present  moment  the  like  antithesis  holds.  We 
are  guilty  of  something  like  a  platitude  when  we 
say  that  throughout  his  after-career  a  boy,  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten,  applies  his  Latin  and  Greek  to  no 
practical  purposes.  The  remark  is  trite  that  in  his 
shop,  or  his  office,  in  managing  his  estate  or  his  fam- 
ily, in  playing  his  part  as  director  of  a  bank  or  a 
railway,  he  is  very  little  aided  by  this  knowledge 
he  took  so  many  years  to  acquire — so  little,  that 
generally  the  greater  part  of  it  drops  out  of  his 
memory ;  and  if  he  occasionally  vents  a  Latin  quota- 
tion, or  alludes  to  some  Greek  myth,  it  is  less  to 
throw  light  on  the  topic  in  hand  than  for  the  sake 
of  effect.  If  we  inquire  what  is  the  real  motive  for  ) 
giving  boys  a  classical  education,  we  find  it  to  be  f 
simply  conformity  to  public  opinion.  Men  dress  J 
their  children's  minds  as  they  do  their^Jbodies,  in 
the  prevailing  fashion.  As  the  Orinoco  Indian 
puts  on  his  paint  before  leaving  his  hut,  not  with 
a  view  to  any  direct  benefit,  but  because  he  would 
be  ashamed  to  be  seen  without  it;  so,  a  boy's  drill- 
ing  in  Latin  and  Greek  is  insisted  on,  not  because  y  - 
of  their  intrinsic  value,  but  that  he  may  not  be  dis- 
graced by  being  found  ignorant  of  them — that  he 
may  have  "  the  education  of  a  gentleman  "-^iT-the 


4       WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH? 

badge  marking  a  certain  social  position,  and  bring- 
ing a  consequent  respect. 

This  parallel  is  still  more  clearly  displayed  in 
tlie  case  of  tbe  other  sex.  fin  the  treatment  of  both 
mind  and  body,  the  decorative  element  has  con- 
tinued to  predominate  in  a  greater  degree  among 
women  than  among  men.  Originally,  personal 
adornment  occupied  the  attention  of  both  sexes 
equally,  (f  In  these  latter  days  of  civilization,  how- 
ever, we  see  that  in  the  dress  of  men  the  regard  for 
appearance  has  in  a  considerable  degree  yielded  to 
the  regard  for  comfort;  while  in  their  education 
the  useful  has  of  late  been  trenching  on  the  orna- 
mental. In  neither  direction  has  this  change  gone 
so  far  with  women.  The  wearing  of  ear-rings,  fin- 
ger-rings, bracelets;  the  elaborate  dressings  of  the 
hair;  the  still  occasional  use  of  paint;  the  immense 
labour  bestowed  in  making  habiliments  sufiiciently 
attractive;  and  the  great  discomfort  that  will  be 
submitted  to  for  the  sake  of  conformity;  show  how 
greatly,  in  the  attiring  of  women,  the  desire  of  ap- 
probation overrides  the  desire  for  warmth  and  con- 
venience. And  similarly  in  their  education,  the 
immense  preponderance  of  "  accomplishments " 
proves  how  here,  too,  use  is  subordinated  to  dis- 
play. Dancing,  deportment,  the  piano,  singing, 
drawing — what  a  large  space  do  these  occupy!     If 


WHY  THE  SHOWY  PREDOMINATES.  5 

you  ask  whj  Italian  and  German  are  learnt,  yon 
will  find  that,  under  all  the  sham  reasons  given,  the 
real  reason  is,  that  a  knowledge  of  those  tongues  is 
thought  ladylike,  [it  is  not  that  the  books  "written 
in  them  may  be  utilized,  which  they  scarcely  ever 
are;  but  that  Italian  and  German  songs  may  be 
sung,  and  that  the  extent  of  attainment  may  bring 
whispered  admiration/7  The  births,  deaths,  and 
marriages  of  kings,  and  other  like  historic  triviali- 
ties, are  committed  to  memory,  not  because  of  any 
direct  benefits  that  can  possibly  result  from  know- 
ing them;  but  because  society  considers  them  parts 
of  a  good  education — because  the  absence  of  such 
knowledge  may  bring  the  contempt  of  oth-ers. 
When  we  have  named  reading,  writing,  spelling, 
grammar,  arithmetic,  and  sewing,  we  have  named 
about  all  the  things  a  girl  is  taught  with  a  view  to 
their  direct  uses  in  life;  and  even  some  of  these 
have  more  reference  to  the  good  opinion  of  others 
than  to  immediate  personal  welfare. 

Thoroughly  to  realize  the  truth  that  with  the 
mind  as  with  the  body  the  ornamental  precedes  the 
useful,  it  is  needful  to  glance  at  its  rationale.  This 
lies  in  the  fact  that,  from  the  far  past  down  even  to 
the  present,  social  needs  have  subordinated  individ- 
ual needs,  and  that  the  chief  social  need  has  been 
the  control  of  individuals.     It  is  not,  as  we  com- 


6       WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH! 

monly  suppose,  that  there  are  no  governments  but 
those  of  monarchs,  and  parliaments,  and  constituted 
authorities.  These  acknowledged  governments  are 
supplemented  by  other  unacknowledged  ones,  that 
grow  up  in  all  circles,  in  which  every  man  or 
woman  strives  to  be  king  or  queen  or  lesser  dig- 
nitary, Y^o  get  above  some  and  be  reverenced  by 
them,  and  to  propitiate  those  who  are  above  us,  is 
the  universal  struggle  in  which  the  chief  energies 
of  life  are  expended.  By  the  accumulation  of 
wealth,  by  style  of  living,  by  beauty  of  dress,  by 
display  of  knowledge  or  intellect,  each  tries  to  sub- 
jugate others;  and  so  aids  in  weaving  that  ramified 
network  of  restraints  by  which  society  is  kept  in 
order.  Jit  is  not  the  savage  chief  only,  who,  in  for- 
midable war-paint,  with  scalps  at  his  belt,  aims  to 
strike  awe  into  his  inferiors ;  it  is  not  only  the  belle 
who,  by  elaborate  toilet,  polished  manners,  and 
numerous  accomplishments,  strives  to  "  make  con- 
quests; "  but  the  scholar,  the  historian,  the  philoso- 
pher, use  their  acquirements  to  the  same  end.  We 
are  none  of  us  content  with  quietly  unfolding  our 
own  individualities  to  the  full  in  all  directions; 
^but  have  a  restless  craving  to  impress  our  individu- 
alities upon  others,  and  in  some  way  subordinate 
them.'l  And  this  it  is  which  determines  the  charac- 
ter of  our  education.  ySTot  what  knowledge  is  of 


RELATIVE  VALUES  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  7 

most  real  worth,  is  the  consideration;  but  what  will 
bring  most  applause,  honour,  respect — what  will 
most  conduce  to  social  position  and  influence — 
what  will  be  most  imposing]  As,  throughout  life, 
not  what  we  are,  but  what  we  sTiairbe^ought,^s 
the  question;  so  in  education,  the  question  is,  not 
ttiemtrinsic  value  of  knowledge,  so  much  as  its  ex- 
trinsic effects  on  others.  And  this  being  our  domi- 
nant idea,  direct  utility  is  scarcely  more  regarded 
than  by  the  barbarian  when  filing  his  teeth  and 
staining  his  nails. 

If  there  needs  any  further  evidence  of  the  rude, 
undeveloped  character  of  our  education,  we  have  it 
in  the  fact  that  the  comparative  worths  of  different 
kinds  of  knowledge  have  been  as  yet  scarcely  even 
discussed — much  less  discussed  in  a  methodic  way 
with  definite  results.  N"ot  only  is  it(that  no  stand- 
ard of  relative  values  has  yet  been  agreed  upon; 
but  the  existence  of  any  such  standard  has  not 
been  conceived  in  any  clear  manner  .J  And.  not 
only  is  it  that  the  existence  of  any  such  standard 
has  not  been  clearly  conceived;  but  the  need  for  it 
seems  to  have  been  scarcely  even  felt.  Men  read 
books  on  this  topic,  and  attend  lectures  on  that; 
decide  that  their  children  shall  be  instructed  in 
these  branches  of  knowledge,  and  shall  not  be  in- 


8        WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH  t 

structed  in  those;  and  all  nnder  the  guidance  of 
mere  custom,  or  liking,  or  prejudice;  without  ever 
considering  the  enormous  importance  of  determin- 
ing in  some  rational  way  what  things  are  really 
most  worth  learning.  It  is  true  that  in  all  circles 
we  have  occasional  remarks  on  the  importance  of 
this  or  the  other  order  of  information.  But  whether 
the  degree  of  its  importance  justifies  the  expendi- 
ture of  the  time  needed  to  acquire  it;  and  whether 
there  are  not  things  of  more  importance  to  which 
the  time  might  be  better  devoted;  are  queries 
which,  if  raised  at  all,  are  disposed  of  quite  sum- 
marily, according  to  personal  predilections.  It  is 
true  also,  that  from  time  to  time,  we  hear  revived 
the  standing  controversy  respecting  the  compara- 
tive merits  of  classics  and  mathematics.  I^ot  only, 
however,  is  this  controversy  carried  on  in  an  em- 
pirical manner,  with  no  reference  to  an  ascertained 
criterion;  but  the  question  at  issue  is  totally  insig- 
nificant when  compared  with  the  general  question 
of  which  it  is  part.  Ljo  suppose  that  deciding 
whether  a  mathematical  or  a  classical  education  is 
the  best,  is  deciding  what  is  the  proper  curriculum, 
is  much  the  same  thing  as  to  suppose  that  the  whole 
of  dietetics  lies  in  determining  whether  or  not  bread 
is  more  nutritive  than  potatoes!^ 

The  question  which  we  contend  is  of  such  tran- 


TIME  OF  ACQUISITION  LIMITED.  9 

scendent  moment,  is,  not  whether  such  or  such 
knowledge  is  of  worth,  but_what  is  its  relative 
worth?  When  they  have  named  certain  advan- 
tages which  a  given  course  of  study  has  secured 
them,  persons  are  a^ot  to  assume  that  they  have  jus- 
tified themselves:  quite  forgetting  that  the  ade- 
quateness  of  the  advantages  is  the  point  to  be 
judged.  There  is,  perhaps,  not  a  subject  to  which 
men  devote  attention  that  has  not  some  value.  A 
year  diligently  spent  in  getting  up  heraldry,  would 
very  possibly  give  a  little  further  insight  into  an- 
cient manners  and  morals,  and  into  the  origin  of 
names.  Any  one  who  should  learn  the  distances 
between  all  the  towns  in  England,  might,  in  the 
course  of  his  life,  find  one  or  two  of  the  thousand 
facts  he  had  acquired  of  some  slight  service  when 
arranging  a  journey.  Gathering  together  all  the 
small  gossip  of  a  county,  profitless  occupation  as  it 
Avould  be,  might  yet  occasionally  help  to  establish 
some  useful  fact — say,  a  good  example  of  heredi- 
tary transmission.  But  in  these  cases,  every  one 
would  admit  that  there  was  no  proportion  between 
the  required  labour  and.  the  probable  benefit.  ISTo 
one  would  tolerate  the  proposal  to  devote  some 
years  of  a  boy's  time  to  getting  such  information, 
at  the  cost  of  much  more  valuable  information 

which  he  might  else  have  got.    And  if  here  the  test 
3 


/ 


10     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH? 

of  relative  value  is  appealed  to  and  held  conclusive, 

then  should  it  be  appealed  to  and  held  conclusive 

throughout.     Had  we  time  to  master  all  subjects 

we   need   not   be   particular.      To   quote   the   old 

song : — 

Could  a  man  be  secure 

That  his  days  would  endure 

As  of  old,  for  a  thousand  long  years, 

What  things  might  he  know  ! 

What  deeds  might  he  do  ! 

And  all  without  hurry  or  care. 

"  But  we  that  have  but  span-long  lives  "  must  ever 
bear  in  mind  our  limited  time  for  acquisition.  And 
remembering  how  narrowly  this  time  is  limited,  not 
only  by  the  shortness  of  life,  but  also  still  more  by 
the  business  of  life,  we  ought  to  be  especially  solic- 
itous  to  employ  what  time  we  have  to  the  greatest 
advantage.  Before  devoting  years  to  some  subject 
which  fashion  or  fancy  suggests,  it  is  surely  wise  to 
weigh  with  great  care  the  worth  of  the  results,  as 
compared  with  the  worth  of  various  alternative  re- 
sults which  the  same  years  might  bring  if  otherwise 
applied. 

In  education,  then,  this  is  the  question  of  ques- 
tions, which  it  is  high  time  we  discussed  in  some 
methodic  way.  The  first  in  importance,  though  the 
last  to  be  considered,  is  the  problem — how  to  decide 
among  the  conflicting  claims  of  various  subjects  on 


THE  GREAT  AIM  OP  EDUCATION.  H 

our  attention.    Before  there  can  be  a  rational  cur- 
riculum, we  must  settle  which  things  it  most  con- 
cerns us  to  know ;  or,  to  use  a  word  of  Bacon's, , 
now  unfortunately   obsolete — we  must  determine^ 
the  relative  value  of  knowledges. 

To  this  end,  a  measure  of  value  is  the  first  re- 
quisite. And  happily,  respecting  the  true  measure 
of  value,  as  expressed  in  general  terms,  there  can 
be  no  dispute.  Every  one  in  contending  for  the 
worth  of  any  particular  order  of  information,  does 
so  by  showing  its  bearing  upon  some  part  of  life. 
In  reply  to  the  question,^^^  Of  wliat  use  is  it?  "  the 
mathematician,  linguist,  naturalist,  or  philosopher, 
explains  the  way  in  which  his  learning  beneficially 
influences  action — saves  from  evil  or  secures  good 
— conduces  to  happiness.  When  the  teacher  of 
writing  has  pointed  out  how  great  an  aid  writing  is 
to  success  in  business — that  is,  to  the  obtainment  of 
sustenance — that  is,  to  satisfactory  living;  he  is 
held  to  have  proved  his  case^  And  when  the  col- 
lector of  dead  facts  (say  a  numismatist)  fails  to 
make  clear  any  appreciable  effects  which  these  facts 
can  produce  on  human  welfare,  he  is  obliged  to 
admit  that  they  are  comparatively  valueless.  All 
then,  either  directly  or  by  implication,  appeal  to 
this  as  the  ultimate  test. 

How  to  live? — that  is  the  essential  questioner 


12      WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

US.  Not  how  to  live  in  the  mere  material  sense 
only,  but  in  the  widest  sense,  j  The  general  problem 
which  comprehends  every  special  problem  is — the 
right  ruling  of  conduct  in  all  directions  under  all 
circumstances.  In  what  way  to  treat  the  body;  in 
what  way  to  treat  the  mind;  in  what  way  to  man- 
age our  affairs;  in  what  way  to  bring  up  a  family; 
in  what  way  to  behave  as  a  citizen;  in  what  way 
to  utilize  all  those  sources  of  happiness  which  na- 
ture supplies — how  to  use  all  our  faculties  to  the 
greatest  advantage  of  ourselves  and  others — how 
to  live  completely?  And  this  being  the  great  thing 
needful  for  us  to  learn,  is,  by  consequence,  the 
great  thing  which  education  has  to  teach.  1  To  pre- 
pare us  for  complete  living  is  the  function  which 
education  has  to  discharge;  and  the  only  rational 
mode  of  judging  of  any  educational  course  is,  to 
judge  in  what  degree  it  discharges  such  function^ 

This  test,  never  used  in  its  entirety,  but  rarely 
even  partially  used,  and  used  then  in  a  vague,  half 
conscious  way,  has  to  be  applied  consciously,  me-  • 
thodically,  and  throughout  all  cases.  It  behoves  us 
to  set  before  ourselves,  and  ever  to  keep  clearly  in 
view,  complete  living  as  the  end  to  be  achieved;  so 
that  in  bringing  up  our  children  we  may  choose 
subjects  and  methods  of  instruction,  w^ith  deliberate 
reference  to  this  end.     JSTot  only  ought  we  to  cease 


CLASSIFICATION  OF  OUR  ACTIVITIES.  13 

from  the  mere  unthinking  adoption  of  the  current 
fashion  in  education,  which  has  no  better  warrant 
than  any  other  fashion ;  but  we  must  also  rise  above 
that  rude,  empirical  style  of  judging  displayed  by 
those  more  intelligent  people  who  do  bestow  some 
care  in  overseeing  the  cultivation  of  their  children's 
minds.  It  must  not  suffice  simply  to  think  that 
such  or  such  information  will  be  useful  in  after  life, 
or  that  this  kind  of  knowledge  is  of  more  practical 
value  than  that;  but  we  must  seek  out  some  process 
of  estimating  their  respective  values,  so  that  as  far 
as  possible  we  may  positively  hnoiu  which  are  most 
deserving  of  attention. 

Doubtless  the  task  is  difficult — perhaps  never 
to  be  more  than  approximately  achieved.  But, 
considering  the  vastness  of  the  interests  at  stake, 
its  difficulty  is  no  reason  for  pusillanimously  pass- 
ing it  by;  but  rather  for  devoting  every  energy  to 
its  mastery.  And  if  we  only  proceed  systematic- 
ally, we  may  very  soon  get  at  results  of  no  small 
moment. 

Our  first  step  must  obviously  be  to  classify,  in 
the  order  of  their  importance,  the  leading  kinds  of 
activity  which  constitute  human  life.  They  may 
be  naturally  arranged  into: — 1.  Those  activities 
which  directly  minister  to  self-preservation;  2. 
Those  activities  which,  by  securing  the  necessaries 


^ 


14     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH  1 

of  life,  indirectly  minister  to  self -preservation ;  3. 
Those  activities  which  have  for  their  end  the  rear- 
ing and  discipline  of  offspring;  4,  Those  activities 
which  are  involved  in  the  maintenance  of  proper 
social  and  political  relations;  5.  Those  miscella- 
neous activities  which  make  np  the  leisure  part  of 
life,  devoted  to  the  gratification  of  the  tastes  and 
feelings. 

That  these  stand  in  something  like  their  true 
order  of  subordination,  it  needs  no  long  considera- 
tion to  show.  The  actions  and  precautions  by 
which,  from  moment  to  moment,  we  secure  per- 
sonal safety,  must  clearly  take  precedence  of  all 
others.  Could  there  be  a  man,  ignorant  as  an  in- 
fant of  all  surrounding  objects  and  movements,  or 
how  to  guide  himself  among  them,  he  would  pretty 
certainly  lose  his  life  the  first  time  he  Avent  into  the 
street:  notwithstanding  any  amount  of  learning  he 
might  have  on  other  matters.  And  as  entire  igno- 
rance in  all  other  directions  would  be  less  promptly 
fatal  than  entire  ignorance  in  this  direction,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  knowledge  immediately  conducive 
to  self-preservation  is  of  primary  importance. 

That  next  after  direct  self-preservation  comes 
the  indirect  self-preservation  which  consists  in  ac- 
quiring the  means  of  living,  none  will  question. 
That  a  man's  industrial  functions  must  be  consid- 


ORDER  OF  SUBORDINATION  OF  SUBJECTS.     15 

ered  before  his  parental  ones,  is  manifest  from  the 
fact  that,  speaking  generally,  the  discharge  of  the 
parental  functions  is  made  possible  only  by  the  pre- 
vious discharge  of  the  industrial  ones.  The  power 
of  self-maintenance  necessarily  preceding  the 
power  of  maintaining  offspring,  it  follows  that 
knowledge  needful  for  self-maintenance  has  strong- 
er claims  than  knowledge  needful  for  family  wel- 
fare— is  second  in  value  to  none  save  knowledge 
needful  for  immediate  self-preservation. 

\As  the  family  comes  before  the  State  in  order 
of  time — as  the  bringing  up  of  children  is  possible 
before  the  State  exists,  or  when  it  has  ceased  to  be, 
whereas  the  State  is  rendered  possible  only  by  the 
bringing  up  of  children;  it  follows  that  the  duties 
of  the  parent  demand  closer  attention  than  those  of 
the  citizen.'?  Or,  to  use  a  further  argument — since 
the  goodness  of  a  society  ultimately  depends  on  the 
nature  of  its  citizens;  and  since  the  nature  of  its 
citizens  is  more  modifiable  by  early  training  than 
by  anything  else;  we  must  conclude  that  the  wel- 
fare of  the  family  underlies  the  welfare  of  society. 
And  hence  knowledge  directly  conducing  to  the 
first,  must  take  precedence  of  knowledge  directly 
conducing  to  the  last. 

Those  various  forms  of  pleasurable  occupation 
which  fill  up  the  leisure  left  by  graver  occupations 


16     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH? 

— the  enjoyments  of  music,  poetry,  painting,  &e. — 
manifestly  imjDly  a  pre-existing  society.  Not  only 
is  a  considerable  development  of  them  impossible 
without  a  long-established  social  union;  but  their 
very  subject-matter  consists  in  great  part  of  social 
sentiments  and  sympathies.  ISTot  only  does  society 
supply  the  conditions  to  their  growth;  but  also  the 
ideas  and  sentiments  they  express.  And,  conse- 
quently, that  part  of  human  conduct  which  consti- 
tutes good  citizenship  is  of  more  moment  than  that 
which  goes  out  in  accomplishments  or  exercise  of 
the  tastes;  and,  in  education,  preparation  for  the 
one  must  rank  before  preparation  for  the  other. 

Such  then,  we  repeat,  is  something  like  the  ra- 
tional order  of  subordination: — That  education 
which  prepares  for  direct  self-preservation;  that 
which  prepares  for  indirect  self-preservation;  that 
which  jDrepares  for  parenthood;  that  which  pre- 
pares for  citizenship;  that  which  prepares  for  the 
miscellaneous  refinements  of  life.  We  do  not  mean 
to  say  that  these  divisions  are  definitely  separable. 
A^e  do  not  deny  that  they  are  intricately  entangled 
with  each  other  in  such  way  that  there  can  be  no 
training  for  any  that  is  not  in  some  measure  a  train- 
ing for  all.  ]^or  do  we  question  that  of  each  di- 
vision there  are  portions  more  important  than, cer- 
tain portions  of  the  preceding  divisions:  that,  for 


ORDER  OF  SUBORDINATION  OF  SUBJECTS.      17 

instance,  a  man  of  much  skill  in  business  but  little 
other  faculty,  may  fall  further  below  the  standard 
of  complete  living  than  one  of  but  moderate  power 
of  acquiring  money  but  great  judgment  as  a  pa- 
rent; or  that  exhaustive  information  bearing  on 
right  social  action,  joined  with  entire  want  of  gen- 
eral culture  in  literature  and  the  fine  arts,  is  less 
desirable  than  a  more  moderate  share  of  the  one 
joined  with  some  of  the  other.  But,  after  making 
all  qualifications,  there  still  remain  these  broadly- 
marked  divisions;  and  it  still  continues  substan- 
tially true  that  these  divisions  subordinate  one  an- 
other in  the  foregoing  order,  because  the  corre- 
sponding divisions  of  life  make  one  another  possible 
in  that  order. 

\^0i  course  the  ideal  of  education  is — complete 
preparation  in  all  these  divisions.-^  But  failing  this 
ideal,  as  in  our  phase  of  civilization  every  one  must 
do  more  or  less,  the  aim  should  be  to  maintain_a 
diiepro^oriwnjoetweeri  the  degrees  of  preparation 
in  each,  Not  exhaustive  cultivation  in  any  one,  su- 
premely important  though  it  may  be — not  even  an 
exclusive  attention  to  the  two,  three,  or  four  divis- 
ions of  greatest  importance;  but  an  attention  to 
all, — greatest  where  the  value  is  greatest,  less  where 
the  value  is  less,  least  where  the  value  is  least.  For 
the  average  man  (not  to  forget  the  cases  in  which 


18     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH? 

peculiar  aptitude  for  some  one  department  of 
knowledge  rightly  makes  that  one  the  bread-win- 
ning occupation) — for  the  average  man,  we  say,  the 
desideratum  is,  a  training  that  approaches  nearest 
to  perfection  in  the  things  which  most  subserve 
complete  living,  and  falls  more  and  more  below 
perfection  in  the  things  that  have  more  and  more 
remote  bearings  on  complete  living. 

In  regulating  education  by  thi§  standard,  there 
are  some  general  considerations  that  should  be  ever 
present  to  us.     The  worth  of  any  kind  of  culture, 
as  aiding  complete  living,  may  be  either  necessary 
or  more  or  less  contingent.    There  is  knowledge  of 
intrinsic  value;  knowledge  of  quasi-intrinsic  value; 
and  knowledge  of  conventional  value.     Such  facts 
as  that  sensations  of  numbness  and  tingling  com- 
monly precede  paralysis,  that  the  resistance  of  water 
to  a  body  mo^dng  through  it  varies  as  the  square 
of  the  velocity,  that  chlorine  is  a  disinfectant, — 
these,  and  the  truths  of  Science  in  general,  are  of 
intrinsic  value:  they  will  bear  on  human  conduct  /' 
ten  thousand  years  hence  as  they  do  now.     The  \ 
extra  knowledge  of  our  own  language,  which  is  / 
given  by  an  acquaintance  with  Latin  and  Greek/ 
may  be  considered  to  have  a  value  that  is  quasi-1 
intrinsic:  it  must  exist  for  us  and  for  other  races) 
whose  languages  owe  much  to  these  sources;  but 


INTRINSIC  AND  CONVENTIONAL  VALUES.      19 

will  last  only  as  long  as  our  languages  last.  While 
that  kind  of  information  which,  in  our  schools, 
usurps  the  name  History — the  mere  tissue  of  names 
and  dates  and  dead  unmeaning  events — has  a  con-  ^' 
ventional  value  only:  it  has  not  the  remotest  bear- 
ing upon  any  of  our  actions;  and  is  of  use  only 
for  the  avoidance  of  those  unpleasant  criticisms 
which  current  opinion  passes  upon  its  absence.  Of 
course,  as  those  facts  which  concern  all  mankind 
throughout  all  time  must  be  held  of  greater  mo- 
ment than  those  which  concern  only  a  portion  of 
them  during  a  limited  era,  and  of  far  greater  mo- 
ment than  those  which  concern  .only  a  portion  of 
them  during  the  continuance  of  a  fashion;  it  fol- 
lows that  in  a  rational  estimate,  knowledge  of  in- 
trinsic worth  must,  other  things  equal,  take  pre- 
cedence of  knowledge  that  is  of  quasi-intrinsic  or 
conventional  worth.  ^y^ 

One  further  preliminary.  Acquirement  of 
every  kind  has  two  values — value  as  knowledge  and 
value  as  discipline.  Besides  its  use  for  guidance  in 
conduct,  the  acquisition  of  each  order  of  facts  has 
also  its  use  as  mental  exercise;  and  its  effects  as  a 
preparative  for  complete  living  have  to  be  consid- 
ered under  both  these  heads. 

These,  then,  are  the  general  ideas  with  which 
we  must  set  out  in  discussing  a  curriculum: — Life 


20     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH  ? 

as  divided  into  several  kinds  of  activity  of  succes- 
sively decreasing  importance;  the  worth  of  each 
order  of  facts  as  regulating  these  several  kinds  of 
activity,  intrinsically,  quasi-intrinsically,  and  con- 
ventionally; and  their  regulative  influences  esti- 
mated both  as  knowledge  and  discipline. 

Happily,  that  all-important  part  of  education 
which  goes  to  secure  direct  self-j)reservation,  is  in 
great  part  already  provided  for.  Too  momentous 
to  be  left  to  our  blundering,  ]^ature  takes  it  into 
her  own  hands.  While  yet  in  its  nurse's  arms,  the 
infant,  by  hiding  its  face  and  crying  at  the  sight  of 
a  stranger,  shows  the  dawning  instinct  to  attain 
safety  by  flying  from  that  which  is  unknown  and 
may  be  dangerous;  and  when  it  can  walk,  the  ter- 
ror it  manifests  if  an  unfamiliar  dog  comes  near,  or 
the  screams  with  which  it  runs  to  its  mother  after 
any  startling  sight  or  sound,  shows  this  instinct 
further  developed.  Moreover,  knowledge  subserv- 
ing direct  self-preservation  is  that  which  it  is  chiefly 
busied  in  acquiring  from  hour  to  hour.  How  to 
balance  its  body ;  how  to  control  its  movements  so 
as  to  avoid  collisions;  what  objects  are  hard,  and 
will  hurt  if  struck;  what  objects  are  heavy,  and 
injure  if  they  fall  on  the  limbs;  which  things  will 
bear  the  weight  of  the  body,  and  which  not;  the 


EDUCATION  FOR  SELF-PRESERVATION.        21 

pains  inflicted  by  fire,  by  missiles,  by  sharp  instru- 
ments— these,  and  various  other  pieces  of  informa- 
tion needful  for  the  avoidance  of  death  or  accident, 
it  is  ever  learning.  And  when,  a  few  years  later, 
the  energies  go  out  in  running,  climbing,  and  jump- 
ing, in  games  of  strength  and  games  of  skill,  we  see 
in  all  these  actions  by  which  the  muscles  are  devel- 
oped, the  perceptions  sharpened,  and  the  judgment 
quickened,  a  preparation  for  the  safe  conduct  of 
the  body  among  surrounding  objects  and  move- 
ments; and  for  meeting  those  greater  dangers  that 
occasionally  occur  in  the  lives  of  all.  /  Being  thus, 
as  we  say,  so  well  cared  for  by  Nature,  this  funda- 
mental education  needs  comparatively  little  care 
from  us.  What  we  are  chiefly  called  upon  to  see, 
is,  that  there  shall  be  free  scope  for  gaining  this  ex- 
perience, and  receiving  this  discipline, — that  there 
shall  be  no  such  thwarting  of  Nature  as  that  by 
which  stupid  schoolmistresses  commonly  jDrevent 
the  girls  in  their  charge  from  the  spontaneous  phys- 
ical activities  they  would  indulge  in;  and  so  ren- 
der them  comparatively  incapable  of  4^ing  care  of 
themselves  in  circumstances  of  peril^ 

This,  however,  is  by  no  means  all  that  is  com- 
prehended in  the  education  that  prepares  for  direct 
self-preservation.  Besides  guarding  the  body 
against  mechanical  damage  or  destruction,  it  has 


22     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH! 

to  be  guarded  against  injury  from  otlier  causes — 
against  the  disease  and  death  that  follow  breaches 
of  physiologic  law.  For  complete  living  it  is  neces- 
sary, not  only  that  sudden  annihilation  of  life  shall 
be  warded  off;  but  also  that  there  shall  be  escaped 
the  incapacities  and  the  slow  annihilation  which 
unwise  habits  entail.  As,  without  health  and  ener- 
gy, the  industrial,  the  parental,  the  social,  and  all 
other  activities  become  more  or  less  impossible;  it 
is  clear  that  this  secondary  kind  of  direct  self-pres- 
ervation is  Only  less  important  than  the  primary 
kind;  and  that  knowledge  tending  to  secure  it 
should  rank  very  high. 

It  is  true  that  here,  too,  guidance  is  in  some 
measure  ready  supplied.  By  our  various  physical 
sensations  and  desires,  Nature  has  insured  a  tolera- 
ble conformity  to  the  chief  requirements.  Fortu- 
nately for  us,  want  of  food,  great  heat,  extreme 
cold,  produce  promptings  too  peremptory  to  be  dis- 
regarded. And  would  men  habitually  obey  these 
and  all  like  promptings  when  less  strong,  compara- 
tively few  evils  would  arise.  If  fatigue  -of  body  or 
brain  were  in  every  case  followed  by  desistance; 
if  the  oppression  produced  by  a  close  atmosphere 
always  led  to  ventilation;  if  there  were  no  eating 
without  hunger,  or  drinking  without  thirst;  then 
would  the  system  be  but  seldom  out  of  working 


EFFECTS  OP  PHYSIOLOGICAL  IGNORANCE.     23 

order.  But  so  profound  an  ignorance  is  there  of 
the  laws  of  life,  that  men  do  not  even  know  that 
their  sensations  are  their  natural  guides,  and  (when 
not  rendered  morbid  by  long-continued  disobe- 
dience) their  trustworthy  guides.  So  that  though, 
to  speak  teleologically,  Xature  has  provided  effi- 
cient safeguards  to  health,  lack  of  Jknowledge  makes  (^^ 
them  in  a  great  measure  useless. 

If  any  one  doubts  the  importance  of  an  ac- 
quaintance with  the  fundamental  principles  of 
/  physiology  as  a  means  to  complete  living,  let  him 
look  around  and  see  how  many  men  and  women  he 
can  find  in  middle  or  later  life  who  are  thoroughly 
well.  Occasionally  only  do  we  meet  with  an  exam- 
ple of  vigorous  health  continued  to  old  age;  hourly 
do  we  meet  with  examples  of  acute  disorder,  chronic 
ailment,  general  debility,  premature  decrepitude. 
Scarcely  is  there  one  to  whom  you  put  the  question, 
who  has  not,  in  the  course  of  his  life,  brought  upon 
himself  illnesses  which  a  little  knowledge  would 
have  saved  him  from.  Here  is  a  case  of  heart  dis- 
ease consequent  on  a  rheumatic  fever  that  followed 
reckless  exposure.  There  is  a  case  of  eyes  spoiled 
for  life  T3y  overstudy.  Yesterday  the  account  was 
of  one  whose  long-enduring  lameness  was  brought 
on  by  continuing,  spite  of  the  pain,  to  use  a  knee 
after  it  had  been  slightly  injured.     And  to-day  we 


24     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

are  told  of  another  wlio  lias  had  to  lie  by  for  years, 
because  he  did  not  know  that  the  palpitation  he 
suffered  from  resulted  from  overtaxed  brain.  ]^ow 
we  hear  of  an  irremediable  injury  that  followed 
some  silly  feat  of  strength;  and,  again,  of  a  consti- 
tution that  has  never  recovered  from  the  effects  of 
excessive  work  needlessly  undertaken.  While  on 
all  sides  we  see  the  perpetual  minor  ailments  which 
accompany  feebleness.  iNot  to  dwell  on  the  natural 
pain,  the  weariness,  the  gloom,  the  waste  of  time  and 
money  thus  entailed,  only  consider  how  greatly  ill- 
health  hinders  the  discharge  of  all  duties — makes 

1 

business  often  impossible,  and  always  more  difficult^-' 

produces  an  irritability  fatal  to  the  right  manage- 
ment of  children;  puts  the  functions  of  citizenship 
out  of  the  question;  and  makes  amusement  a  bore. 
Is  it  not  clear  that  the  physical  sins — partly  our 
forefathers'  and  partly  our  own — which  produce 
this  ill-health,  deduct  more  from  complete  living 
than  anything  else?  and  to  a  great  extent  make  life 
a  failure  and  a  burden  instead  of  a  benefaction  and 
a  pleasure? 

To  all  which  add  the  fact,  that  life,  besides  be- 
ing thus  immensely  deteriorated,  is  also  cut  short. 
It  is  not  true,  as  we  commonly  suppose,  that  a  dis- 
order or  disease  from  which  we  have  recovered 
leaves  us  as  before.     No  disturbance  of  the  normal 


KNOWLEDGE  NECESSARY  TO  HEALTH.        25 

course  of  the  functions  can  pass  away  and  leave 
things  exactly  as  they  were.  In  all  cases  a  perma- 
nent damage  is  done — not  immediately  appreciable, 
it  may  be,  but  still  there;  and  along  with  other 
such  items  which  ^N'ature  in  her  strict  account-keep- 
ing never  drops,  will  tell  against  us  to  the  inevitable 
shortening  of  our  days.  Through  the  accumula- 
tion of  small  injuries  it  is  that  constitutions  are 
commonly  undermined,  and  break  down,  long  be- 
fore their  time.  And  if  we  call  to  mind  how  far 
the  average  duration  of  life  falls  below  the  possible 
duration,  we  see  how  immense  is  the  loss.  When, 
to  the  numerous  partial  deductions  which  bad 
health  entails,  we  add  this  great  final  deduction,  it 
results  that  ordinarily  more  tliaiLjQne=half  -of  life  -ia- 
thrown  away. 

Hence,  knowledge  which  subserves  direct  self- 
preservation  by  preventing  this  loss  of  health,  is  of 
primary  importance.  We  do  not  contend  that  pos- 
session of  such  knowledge  would  by  any  means 
wholly  remedy  the  evil.  For  it  is  clear  that  in  our 
present  phase  of  civilization  men's  necessities  often 
compel  them  to  transgress.  And  it  is  further  clear 
that,  even  in  the  absence  of  such  compulsion,  their 
inclinations  would  frequently  lead  them,  spite  of 
their  knowledge,  to  sacrifice  future  good  to  present 
gratification.     But  we  do  contend  that  the  right 


26      WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

knowledge  impressed  in  the  right  way  would  effect 
much;  and  we  further  contend  that  as  the  laws  of 
health  must  be  recognised  before  they  can  be  fully 
conformed  to,  the  imparting  of  such  knowledge 
must  precede  a  more  rational  living — come  when 
that  may.  We  infer  that  as  vigorous  health  and 
its  accompanying  high  spirits  are  larger  elements 
of  happiness  than  any  other  things  whatever,  the 
teaching  how  to  maintain  them  is  a  teaching  that 
yields  in  moment  to  no  other  whatever.  And 
therefore  w^e  assert  that  such  a  course  of  physi- 
ology as  is  needful  for  the  comprehension  of  its 
general  truths,  and  their  bearings  on  daily  conduct, 
is  an  all-essential  part  of  a  rational  education. 

Strange  that  the  assertion  should  need  making! 
Stranger  still  that  it  should  need  defending!  Yet 
are  there  not  a  few  by  whom  such  a  proposition 
will  be  received  with  something  approaching  to  de- 
rision. Men  who  would  blush  if  caught  saying 
Iphigenia  instead  of  Iphigenia,  or  would  resent  as 
an  insult  any  imputation  of  ignorance  respecting 
the  fabled  labours  of  a  fabled  demi-god,  show  not 
the  slightest  shame  in  confessing  that  they  do  not 
know  where  the  Eustachian  tubes  are,  what  are  the 
actions  of  the  spinal  cord,  what  is  the  normal  rate 
of  pulsation,  or  how  the  lungs  are  inflated.  "While 
anxious  that  their  sons  should  be  well  up  in  the  su- 


STRANGE  OBLIQUITIES  OP  OPINION.  27 

perstitions  of  two  thousand  years  ago,  they  care  not 
that  they  should  be  taught  anything  about  the 
structure  and  functions  of  their  own  bodies — nay, 
would  even  disapprove  such  instruction.  So  over- 
whelming is  the  influence  of  established  routine! 
So  terribly  in  our  education  doesjhe  ornamental 
override  the  useful! 

We  need  noTtnsist  on  the  value  of  that  knowl- 
edge which  aids  indirect  self-preservation  by  facili- 
tating the  gaining  of  a  livelihood.  This  is  admit- 
ted by  all;  and,  indeed,  by  the  mass  is  perhaps  too 
exclusively  regarded  as  the  end  of  education.  But 
while  every  one  is  ready  to  endorse  the  abstract 
proposition  that  instruction  fitting  youths  for  the 
business  of  life  is  of  high  importance,  or  even  to 
consider  it  of  supreme  importance;  yet  scarcely 
any  inquire  what  instruction  will  so  fit  them.  It 
is  true  that  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic  are 
taught  with  an  intelligent  appreciation  of  their 
uses;  but  when  we  have  said  this  we  have  said 
nearly  all.  While  the  great  bulk  of  what  else  is 
acquired  has  no  bearing  on  the  industrial  activities, 
an  immensity  of  information  that  has  a  direct  bear- 
ing on  the  industrial  activities  is  entirely  passed 
over. 

For,  leaving  out  only  some  very  small  classes, 
what  are  all  men  employed  in?     They  are  em- 


'      v28     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WOUTH? 

jf^  ployed  in  the  production  j...prppnrntion,  aiid,jdistii=- 

bu1ion_ji£-_^ommodities.  And  on  what  does  effi- 
ciency in  the  production,  preparation,  and  distribu- 
tion_of  commodjiiea^Iepend  %  It  depends  on  the 
use  of  methods  fitted  to  the  respective  natures  of 
these  commodities;  it  depends  on  an  adequate 
knowledge  of  their  physical,  chemical,  or  vital 
properties,  as  the  case  may  be;  that  is,  it  depends 
on  Science.  /  This  order  of  knowledge,  which  is  in 
great  part  ignored  in  our  school  courses,  is  the  order 
of  knowledge  underlying  the  right  performance  of 
all  those  processes  by  which  civilized  life  is  made 
possible.  Undeniable  as  is  this  truth,  and  thrust 
upon  us  as  it  is  at  every  turn,  there  seems  to  be  no 
living  consciousness  of  it:  its  very  familiarity 
makes  it  unregarded.  To  give  due  weight  to  our 
argument,  we  must,  therefore,  realize  this  truth  to 
the  reader  by  a  rapid  review  of  the  facts. 

[For  all  the  higher  arts  of  construction,  some 
acquaintance  with  Mathematics  is  indispensable^../ 
The  village  carpenter,  who,  lacking  rational  in- 
struction, lays  out  his  work  by  empirical  rules 
learnt  in  his  apprenticeship,  equally  with  the  build- 
er of  a  Britannia  Bridge,  makes  hourly  reference 
to  the  laws  of  quantitative  relations.  The  sur- 
veyor on  whose  survey  the  land  is  purchased;  the 
architect  in  designing  a  mansion  to  be  built  on  it; 


NEEDS  OF  THE  CONSTRUCTOR.  29 

tlie  builder  in  preparing  his  estimates;  his  foreman 
in  laying  out  the  foundations;  the  masons  in  cut- 
ting the  stones;  and  the  various  artisans  who  put 
up  the  fittings;  are  all  guided  by  geometrical 
truths.  Railway-making  is  regulated  from  begin- 
ning to  end  by  mathematics:  alike  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  plans  and  sections;  in  staking  out  the  line; 
in  the  mensuration  of  cuttings  and  embankments; 
in  the  designing,  estimating,  and  building  of 
bridges,  culverts,  viaducts,  tunnels,  stations.  And 
similarly  with  the  harbours,  docks,  piers,  and  vari- 
ous engineering  and  architectural  works  that  fringe 
the  coasts  and  overspread  the  face  of  the  country; 
as  well  as  the  mines  that  run  underneath  it.  LX)ut 
of  geometry,  too,  as  applied  to  astronomy,  the  art 
of  navigation  has  grown;  and  so,  by  this  science, 
has  been  made  possible  that  enormous  foreign  com- 
merce which  supports  a  large  part  of  our  popula- 
tion, and  supplies  us  with  many  necessities  and  most 
of  our  luxuries.  /  And  now-a-days  even  the  farmer, 
for  the  correct  laying  out  of  his  drains,  has  recourse 
to  the  level — that  is,  to  geometrical  principles. 
When^Jromjthosfi- divisrena.  .of  mathematics  which 
deal  with  space,_ajid  nMw^er,-SQm.e_small  siaat^ering 
of  jvhich  is  given  in  schools,,  we  turn  to  that  other 
division  which~^eals  with^^rce,  of  which  even  a 
smattering  is  scarcely  ever  given,  we  meet  with  an- 


30     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH  ? 

other  large  class  of  activities  which  this  science 
presides  over.  LX)n  the  application  of  rational  me- 
chanics depends  the  success  of  nearly  all  modern 
manufacture.^  The  properties  of  the  lever,  the 
wheel  and  axle,  &c.,  are  involved  in  every  machine 
— every  machine  is  a  solidified  mechanical  theorem; 
and  to  machinery  in  these  times  we  owe  nearly  all 
productions.  Trace  the  history  of  the  breakfast- 
roll.  The  soil  out  of  which  it  came  was  drained 
Vfiih  machine-made  tiles;  the  surface  was  turned 
over  by  a  machine;  the  seed  was  put  in  by  a  ma- 
chine; the  wheat  was  reaped,  thrashed,  and  win- 
nowed by  machines;  by  machinery  it  was  ground 
and  bolted;  and  had  the  flour  been  sent  to  Gos- 
port,  it  might  have  been  made  into  biscuits  by  a 
machine.  Look  round  the  room  in  which  you  sit. 
If  modern,  probably  the  bricks  in  its  walls  were 
machine-made;  by  machinery  the  flooring  was 
sawn  and  planed,  the  mantel-shelf  sawn  and  pol- 
ished, the  paper-hangings  made  and  printed;  the 
veneer  on  the  table,  the  turned  legs  of  the  chairs, 
the  carpet,  the  curtains,  are  all  products  of  ma- 
chinery. And  your  clothing — plain,  figured,  or 
printed — is  it  not  wholly  woven,  nay  perhaps  even 
sewed,  by  machinery?  And  the  volume  you  are 
reading — are  not  its  leaves  fabricated  by  one  ma- 
chine and  covered  with  these  words  by  another? 


VALUE  OF  MECHANICAL  SCIENCES.  31 

Add  to  whicli  that  for  the  means  of  distribution 
over  both  land  and  sea,  we  are  similarly  indebted. 
And  then  let  it  be  remembered  that  according  as 
the  principles  of  mechanics  are  well  or  ill  used  to 
these  ends,  comes  success  or  failure — individual  and 
national.  The  engineer  who  misapplies  his  for- 
mulae for  the  strength  of  materials,  builds  a  bridge 
that  breaks  down.  The  manufacturer  whose  ap- 
paratus is  badly  devised,  cannot  compete  with  an- 
other whose  apparatus  wastes  less  in  friction  and  in- 
ertia. The  ship-builder  adhering  to  the  old  model, 
is  outsailed  by  one  who  builds^on  the  mechanically- 
justified  wave-line  principle.  LAnd  as  the  ability  of 
a  nation  to  hold  its  own  against  other  nations  de- 
pends on  the  skilled  activity  of  its  units,  we  see 
that  on  such  knowledge  may  turn  the  national  fate. 
Judge  then  the  worth  of  mathematicsj 

Pass  next  to  Physics.  Joined  with  mathemat- 
ics, it  has  given  us  the  steam-engine,  which  does 
the  work  of  millions  of  labourers.  That  section  of 
physics  which  deals  with  the  laws  of  heat,  has 
taught  us  how  to  economise  fuel  in  our  various  in- 
dustries; how  to  increase  the  produce  of  our  smelt- 
ing furnaces  by  substituting  the  hot  for  the  cold 
blast;  how  to  ventilate  our  mines;  how  to  prevent 
explosions  by  using  the  safety-lamp;  and,  through 
the  thermometer,  how  to  regulate  innumerable  pro- 


/t'*^ 


32     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH  ? 

cesses.  That  division  wliicli  lias  the  phenomena  of 
light  for  its  subject,  gives  eyes  to  the  old  and  the 
myopic;  aids  through  the  miscroscope  in  detecting 
diseases  and  adulterations;  and  by  improved  light- 
houses prevents  shipwrecks.  Researches  in  elec- 
tricity and  magnetism  have  saved  incalculable  life 
and  property  by  the  compass;  have  subserved  sun- 
dry arts  by  the  electrotype;  and  now,  in  the  tele- 
graph, have  supplied  us  with  the  agency  by  which 
for  the  future  all  mercantile  transactions  will  be 
regulated,  political  intercourse  carried  on,  and  per- 
haps national  quarrels  often  avoided.  While  in 
the  details  of  indoor  life,  from  the  improved 
kitchen-range  up  to  the  stereoscope  on  the  drawing- 
room  table,  the  applications  of  advanced  physics 
underlie  our  comforts  and  gratifications. 

l'  Still  more  numerous  are  the  bearings  ofjnheni--- 
istry  on  those  activities  by  which  men  obtain  the 
means  of  living."^  The  bleacher,  the  dyer,  the  cali- 
co-printer, are  severally  occupied  in  processes  that 
are  well  or  ill  done  according  as  they  do  or  do  not 
conform  to  chemical  laws.  The  economical  reduc- 
tion from  their  ores  of  copper,  tin,  zinc,  lead,  silver, 
iron,  are  in  a  great  measure  questions  of  chemistry. 
Sugar-refining,  gas-making,  soap-boiling,  gunpow- 
der  manulacture,  are  operations  all  partly  chemi- 
cal; as  are  also  those  by  which  are  produced  glass 


CHEMISTRY  AND  AGRICULTURE.  33 

and  porcelain.  Whether  the  distiller's  wort  stops 
at  the  alcoholic  fermentation  or  passes  into  the  ace- 
tous, is  a  chemical  question  on  which  hangs  his 
profit  or  loss;  and  the  brewer,  if  his  business  is 
sufficiently  large,  finds  it  pay  to  keep  a  chemist  on 
his  premises.  Glance  through  a  work  on  tech- 
nology, and  it  becomes  at  once  apparent  that  there 
is  now  scarcely  any  process  in  the  arts  or  manu- 
factures over  some  part  of  which  chemistry  does 
not  preside.  And  then,  lastly,  we  come  to  the 
fact  that  in  these  times,  agriculture,  to  be  profit- 
ably carried  on,  must  have  like  guidance.  The 
analysis  of  manures  and  soils;  their  adaptations  to 
each  other;  the  use  of  g}"psum  or  other  substance 
for  fixing  ammonia;  the  utilization  of  coprolites; 
the  production  of  artificial  manures — all  these  are 
boons  of  chemistry  which  it  behoves  the  farmer 
to  acquaint  himself  with.  Be  it  in  the  lucifer 
match,  or  in  disinfected  sewage,  or  in  photographs 
— in  bread  made  without  fermentation,  or  per- 
fumes extracted  from  refuse,  we  may  perceive  that 
chemistry  affects  all  our  industries;  and  that,  by 
consequence,  knowledge  of  it  concerns  every  one 
who  is  directly  or  indirectly  connected  with  our 
industries. 

And  then  the  science   of  life — Biology:  does 
not  this,  too,  bear  fundamentally  upon  these  pro- 


34     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH  ? 

cesses  of  indirect  self-preservation?  Witk  wliat  we 
ordinarily  call  manufactures,  it  has,  indeed,  little 
connexion;  but  with  the  all-essential  manufacture 
— that  of  food — it  is  inseparably  connected.  As 
agriculture  must  conform  its  methods  to  the 
phenomena  of  vegetable  and  animal  life,  it  follows 
necessarily  that  the  science  of  these  phenomena  is 
-  the  rational  basis.ofagriciLLtiu^y  Various  biological 
truths  have  indeed  been  empirically  established  and 
acted  upon  by  farmers  while  yet  there  has  been  no 
conception  of  them  as  science :  such  as  that  particu- 
lar manures  are  suited  to  particular  plants;  that 
crops  of  certain  kinds  unfit  the  soil  for  other  crops; 
that  horses  cannot  do  good  work  on  poor  food ;  that 
such  and  such  diseases  of  cattle  and  sheep  are  caused 
by  such  and  such  conditions.  These,  and  the 
every-day  knowledge  which  the  agriculturist  gains 
by  experience  respecting  the  right  management  of 
plants  and  animals,  constitute  his  stock  of  biological 
facts;  on  the  largeness  of  which  greatly  depends 
his  success.  And  as  these  biological  facts,  scanty, 
indefinite,  rudimentary,  though  they  are,  aid  him 
so  essentially;  judge  what  must  be  the  value  to 
him  of  such  facts  when  they  become  positive,  defi- 
nite, and  exhaustive.  Indeed,  even  now  we  may 
see  the  benefits  that  rational  biology  is  conferring 
on  him.     The  truth  that  the  production  of  animal 


IMPORTANCE  OP  SCIENCE  TO  FARMERS.       35 

heat  implies  waste  of  substance,  and  that,  therefore, 
preventing  loss  of  heat  prevents  the  need  for  extra 
food — a  purely  theoretical  conclusion — now  guides 
the  fattening  of  cattle:  it  is  found  that  by  keeping 
cattle  warm,  fodder  is  saved.  Similarly  with  re- 
spect to  variety  of  food.  The  experiments  of  phys- 
iologists have  shown  that  not  only  is  change  of  diet 
beneficial,  but  that  digestion  is  facilitated  by  a 
mixture  of  ingredients  in  each  meal:  both  which 
truths  are  now  influencing  cattle-feeding.  The 
discovery  that  a  disorder  known  as  "  the  staggers," 
of  which  many  thousands  of  sheep  have  died  annu- 
ally, is  caused  by  an  entozoon  which  presses  on  the 
brain ;  and  that  if  the  creature  is  extracted  through 
the  softened  place  in  the  skull  which  marks  its  posi- 
tion, the  sheep  usually  recovers;  is  another  debt 
which  agriculture  owes  to  biology.  When  we  ob- 
serve the  marked  contrast  between  our  farming  and 
farming  on  the  Continent,  and  remember  that  this 
contrast  is  mainly  due  to  the  far  greater  influence 
science  has  had  upon  farming  here  and  there;  and 
when  we  see  how,  daily,  competition  is  making  the 
adoption  of  scientific  methods  more  general  and 
necessary;  we  shall  rightly  infer  that  very  soon, 
agricultural  success  in  England  will  be  impossible 
without  a  competent  knowledge  of  animal  and 
vegetable  physiology. 


36     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

Yet  one  more  science  liave  we  to  note  as  bearing 
directly  on  industrial  success — tlie  Science  of  So- 
ciety. Without  knowing  it,  men  who  dally  look 
at  theatate  of  the  money-market,  glance  over  prices 
current,  discuss  the  probable  crops  of  corn,  cotton, 
sugar,  wool,  silk,  weigh  the  chances  of  war,  and 
from  all  those  data  decide  on  their  mercantile  opera- 
tions, are  students  of  social  science:  empirical  and 
blundering  students  it  may  be;  but  still,  students 
who  gain  the  prizes  or  are  plucked  of  their  profits, 
according  as  they  do  or  do  not  reach  the  right  con- 
clusion. l>iot  only  the  manufacturer  and  the  mer- 
chant must  guide  their  transactions  by  calculations 
of  supply  and  demand,  based  on  numerous  facts, 
and  tacitly  recognising  sundry  general  principles 
of  social  action;  but  even  the  retailer  must  do  the 
like:  his  prosperity  very  greatly  depending  upon 
the  correctness  of  his  judgments  respecting  the  fu- 
ture wholesale  prices  and  the  future  rates  of  con- 
sumption. T  Manifestly,  all  who  take  part  in  the 
entangled  commercial  activities  of  a  community, 
are  vitally  interested  in  understanding  the  laws 
according  to  which  those  activities  vary^.} 

Thus,  to  all  such  as  are  occupied  in  the  produc- 
tion, exchange,  or  distribution  of  commodities,  ac- 
quaintance with  science  in  some  of  its  departments, 
is  of  fundamental  importance.     Whoever  is  imme- 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  SOCIETY.  37 

diately  or  reraotely  implicated  in  any  form  of  indus- 
try (and  few  are  not)  has  a  direct  interest  in  under- 
standing something  of  the  mathematical,  physical, 
and  chemical  properties  of  things;  perhaps,  also, 
has  a  direct  interest  in  biology;  and  certainly  has 
in  sociology.  Whether  he  does  or  does  not  suc- 
ceed well  in  that  indirect  self-preservation  which 
we  call  getting  a  good  livelihood,  depends  in  a  great 
degree  on  his  knowledge  of  one  or  more  of  these 
sciences:  not,  it  may  be,  a  rational  knowledge; 
but  still  a  knowledge,  though  empirical.  |  For  what 
we  call  learning  a  business,  really  implies  learning 
the  science  involved  in  it;  though  not  perhaps 
under  the  name  of  science.  And  hence  a  ground- 
ing in  science  is  of  great  importance,  both  because 
it  prepares  for  all  this,  and  because  rational  knowl- 
edge has  an  immense  superiority  over  empirical 
knowledge.  J  Moreover,  not  only  is  it  that  scientific 
culture  is  requisite  for  each,  that  he  may  understand 
the  how  and  the  why  of  the  things  and  processes  with 
which  he  is  concerned  as  maker  or  distributor;  but 
it  is  often  of  much  moment  that  he  should  under- 
stand the  how  and  the  why  of  various  other  things 
and  processes.  In  this  age  of  joint-stock  under- 
takings, nearly  every  man  above  the  labourer  is  in- 
terested as  capitalist  in  some  other  occupation  than 
his  own;  and,  as  thus  interested,  his  profit  or  loss 


38      WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

often  depends  on  his  knowledge  of  tlie  sciences 
bearing  on  this  other  occupation.  Here  is  a  mine, 
in  the  sinking  of  which  many  shareholders  ruined 
themselves,  from  not  knowing  that  a  certain  fossil 
belonged  to  the  old  red  sandstone,  below  which  no 
coal  is  found.  Not  many  years  ago,  20,000Z.  was 
lost  in  the  prosecution  of  a  scheme  for  collecting  the 
alcohol  that  distils  from  bread  in  baking:  all  which 
would  have  been  saved  to  the  subscribers,  had  they 
known  that  less  than  a  hundredth  part  by  weight 
of  the  flour  is  changed  in  fermentation.  ]S[umer- 
ous  attempts  have  been  made  to  construct  electro- 
magnetic engines,  in  the  hope  of  superseding  steam ; 
but  had  those  who  supplied  the  money,  understood 
the  general  law  of  the  correlation  and  equivalence 
of  forces,  they  might  have  had  better  balances  at 
their  bankers.  /  Daily  are  men  induced  to  aid  in 
carrying  out  inventions  which  a  mere  tyro  in 
science  could  show  to  be  futile.  Scarcely  a  locality 
but  has  its  history  of  fortunes  thrown  away  over 
some  impossible  project^ 

And  if  already  the  loss  from  want  of  science  is 
so  frequent  and  so  great,  still  greater  and  more  fre- 
quent will  it  be  to  those  who  hereafter  lack  science. 
Just  as  fast  as  productive  processes  become  more 
scientific,  which  competition  will  inevitably  make 
them   do;  and  just  as  fast  as  joint-stock  under- 


THE  SCIENCE  OP  SOCIETY.  39 

takings  spread,  which  they  certainly  will;  so  fast 
will  scientific  knowledge  grow  necessary  to  every 
one. 

That  which  our  school  courses  leave  almost  en- 
tirely out,  we  thus  find  to  be  that  which  most  nearly 
concerns  the  business  of  life.  All  our  industries 
would  cease,  were  it  not  for  that  information  which 
men  begin  to  acquire  as  they  best  may  after  their 
education  is  said  to  be  finished.  And  were  it  not 
for  this  information,  that  has  been  from  age  to  age 
accumulated  and  spread  by  unofficial  means,  these 
industries  would  never  have  existed.  Had  there 
been  no  teaching  but  such  as  is  given  in  our  public 
schools,  England  would  now  be  what  it  was  in  feu- 
dal times.  That  increasing  acquaintance  with  the 
laws  of  phenomena  which  has  through  successive 
ages  enabled  us  to  subjugate  IsTature  to  our  needs, 
and  in  these  days  gives  the  common  labourer  com- 
forts which  a  few  centuries  ago  kings  could  not 
purchase,  is  scarcely  in  any  degree  owed  to  the  ap- 
pointed means  of  instructing  our  youth.  The  vital 
knowledge — that  by  which  we  have  grown  as  a  na- 
tion to  what  we  are,  and  which  now  underlies  our 
whole  existence,  is  a  knowledge  that  has  got  itself 
taught  in  nooks  and  corners;  while  the  ordained 
agencies  for  teaching  have  been  mumbling  little 
else  but  dead  formulas. 


40     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH? 

We  now  come  to  tlie  third  great  division  of  hu- 
man activities — a  division  for  which  no  preparation 
whatever  is  made.  If  by  some  strange  chance  not 
a  vestige  of  us  descended  to  the  remote  future  save 
a  pile  of  our  school-books  or  some  college  examina- 
tion papers,  we  may  imagine  how  puzzled  an  anti- 
quary of  the  period  would  be  on  finding  in  them  no 
indication  that  the  learners  were  ever  likely  to  be 
parents.  "  This  must  have  been  the  curriculum 
for  their  celibates,"  we  may  fancy  him  concluding. 
L  "  I  perceive  here  an  elaborate  preparation  for  many 
things:  especially  for  reading  the  books  of  extinct 
nations  and  of  co-existing  nations  (from  which  in- 
deed it  seems  clear  that  these  people  had  very  little 
worth  reading  in  their  own  tongue);  but  I  find  no 
reference  whatever  to  the  bringing  up  of  children^} 
They  could  not  have  been  so  absurd  as  to  omit  all 
training  for  this  gravest  of  responsibilities.  Evi- 
dently then,  this  was  the  school  course  of  one  of 
their  monastic  orders." 

Seriously,  is  it  not  an  astonishing  fact,  that 
though  on  the  treatment  of  offspring  depend  their 
lives  or  deaths,  and  their  moral  welfare  or  ruin; 
yet  not  one  word  of  instruction  on  the  treatment  of 
offspring  is  ever  given  to  those  who  will  hereafter 
be  parents?  Is  it  not  monstrous  that  the  fate  of  a 
new  generation  should  be  left  to  the  chances  of  un- 


TREATMENT  OF  OFFSPRING.  '     41 

reasoning  custom,  impulse,  fancy — joined  with  the 
suggestions  of  ignorant  nurses  and  the  prejudiced 
counsel  of  grandmothers?  If  a  merchant  com- 
menced business  without  any  knowledge  of  arith- 
metic and  book-keeping,  we  should  exclaim  at  his 
folly,  and  look  for  disastrous  consequences.  Or  if, 
before  studying  anatomy,  a  man  set  up  as  a  surgi- 
cal operator,  we  should  wonder  at  his  audacity  and 
pity  his  patients.  But  that  parents  should  begin 
the  difficult  task  of  rearing  children  without  ever 
having  given  a  thought  to  the  principles — physical, 
moral,  or  intellectual — which  ought  to  guide  them, 
excites  neither  surprise  at  the  actors  nor  pity  for 
their  victims. 

FTo  tens  of  thousands  that  are  killed,  add  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  that  survive  with  feeble  consti- 
tutions, and  millions  that  grow  up  with  constitu- 
tions not  so  strong  as  they  should  be;  and  you  will 
have  some  idea  of  the  curse  inflicted  on  their  off- 
spring by  parents  ignorant  of  the  laws  of  lif^  Do 
but  consider  for  a  moment  that  the  regimen  to 
which  children  are  subject  is  hourly  telling  upon 
them  to  their  life-long  injury  or  benefit;  and  that 
there  are  twenty  ways  of  going  wrong  to  one  way 
of  going  right;  and  you  will  get  some  idea  of  the 
enormous  mischief  that  is  almost  everywhere  in- 
flicted by  the  thoughtless,  haphazard  system  in  com- 


42     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH  ? 

mon  use.  /Is  it  decided  that  a  boy  shall  be  clothed 
in  some  mmsy  short  dress,  and  be  allowed  to  go 
playing  about  with  limbs  reddened  by  cold?  The 
decision  will  tell  on  his  whole  future  existence — 
\^  either  in  illnesses;  or  in  stunted  growth;  or  in  de- 
ficient energy;  or  in  a  maturity  less  vigorous  than 
it  ought  to  have  been,  and  consequent  hindrances  to 
success  and  happinessO  Are  children  doomed  to  a 
monotonous  dietary,  or  a  dietary  that  is  deficient  in 
nutritiveness  ?  Their  ultimate  physical  power  and 
their  efiiciency  as  men  and  women,  will  inevitably 
be  more  or  less  diminished  by  it.  Are  they  forbid- 
den vociferous  play,  or  (being  too  ill-clothed  to  bear 
exposure),  are  they  kept  in-doors  in  cold  weather? 
They  are  certain  to  fall  below  that  measure  of 
health  and  strength  to  which  they  would  else  have 
attained.  When  sons  and  daughters  grow  up  sick- 
ly and  feeble,  parents  commonly  regard  the  event 
as  a  misfortune — as  a^jvisitation  of  Providence. 
Thinking  after  the  prevalent  chaotic_Jashion,  they 
assume  that  these  evils  come  without  causes ;  or  that 
the  causes  are  supernatural.  ISTothing  of  the  kind. 
In  some  cases  the  causes  are  doubtless  inherited; 
but  in  most  cases  foolish  regulations  are  the  causes. 
Very  generally  parents  themselves  are  responsible 
for  all  this  pain,  this  debility,  this  depression,  this 
misery.     They  have  undertaken  to  control  the  lives 


RESULTS  OF  PARENTAL  IGNORANCE.  43 

of  their  offspring  from  hour  to  hour;  with  cruel 
carelessness  they  have  neglected  to  learn  anything 
about  these  vital  processes  which  they  are  unceas- 
ingly affecting  by  their  commands  and  prohibi- 
tions; in  utter  igTiorance  of  the  simplest  physiologic 
laws,  they  have  been  year  by  year  undermining  the 
constitutions  of  their  children;  and  have  so  in- 
flicted disease  and  premature  death,  not  only  on 
them  but  on  their  descendants. 

Equally  great  are  the  ignorance  and  the  conse- 
quent injury,  when  we  turn  from  physical  train- 
ing. Consider  the  young  mother  and  her  nursery 
legislation.  But  a  few  years  ago  she  was  at  school, 
where  her  memory  was  crammed  with  words,  and 
names,  and  dates,  and  her  reflective  faculties  scarce- 
ly in  the  slightest  degree  exercised — where  not  one 
idea  was  given  her  respecting  the  methods  of  deal- 
ing with  the  opening  mind  of  childhood;  and 
where  her  discipline  did  not  in  the  least  fit  her  for 
thinking  out  methods  of  her  own.  The  interven- 
ing years  have  been  passed  in  practising  music,  in 
fancy-work,  in  novel-reading,  and  in  party-going: 
no  thought  having  yet  been  given  to  the  grave  re- 
sponsibilities of  maternity;  and  scarcely  any  of 
that  solid  intellectual  culture  obtained  which  would 
be  some  preparation  for  such  responsibilities.  And 
now  see   her   with   an   unfolding;   human    charac- 


44     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

ter  committed  to  her  charge — see  lier  profoundly 
ignorant  of  the  phenomena  with  which  she  has  to 
deal,  undertaking  to  do  that  which  can  be  done  but 
imperfectly  even  with  the  aid  of  the  profoundest 
knowledge.  She  knows  nothing  about  the  nature 
of  the  emotions,  their  order  of  evolution,  their  func- 
tions, or  where  use  ends  and  abuse  begins.  She  is 
under  the  impression  that  some  of  the  feelings  are 
wholly  bad,  which  is  not  true  of  any  one  of  them; 
and  that  others  are  good,  however  far  they  may  be 
carried,  which  is  also  not  true  of  any  one  of  them. 
And  then,  ignorant  as  she  is  of  that  with  which  she 
has  to  deal,  she  is  equally  ignorant  of  the  effects 
that  will  be  produced  on  it  by  this  or  that  treat- 
ment. What  can  be  more  inevitable  than  the  dis- 
astrous results  we  see  hourly  arising?  Lacking 
knowledge  of  mental  phenomena,  with  their  causes 
and  consequences,  her  interference  is  frequently 
more  mischievous  than  absolute  passivity  would 
have  been.  This  and  that  kind  of  action,  which 
are  quite  normal  and  beneficial,  she  perpetually 
thwarts;  and  so  diminishes  the  child's  happiness 
and  profit,  injures  its  temper  and  her  own,  and  pro- 
duces estrangement.  Deeds  which  she  thinks  it 
desirable  to  encourage,  she  gets  performed  by 
threats  and  bribes,  or  by  exciting  a  desire  for  ap- 
plause: considering  little  what  the  inward  motive 


EDUCATION  OP  THE  YOUNW  MOTHER.    45 

may  be,  so  long  as  the  outward  conduct  conforms; 
and  thus  cultivating  hypocrisy,  and  fear,  and  self- 
ishness, in  place  of  good  feeling.  fWhile  insisting 
on  truthfulness,  she  constantly  sets  an  example  of 
untruth,  by  threatening  penalties  which  she  does 
not  inflict?  While  inculcating  self-control,  she 
hourly  visits  on  her  little  ones  angry  scoldings  for 
acts  that  do  not  call  for  them;}  She  has  not  the  re- 
motest idea  that  in  the  nursery,  as  in  the  world, 
that  alone  is  the  truly  salutary  discipline  which 
visits  on  all  conduct,  good  and  bad,  the  natural 
consequences — the  consequences,  pleasurable  or 
painful,  which  in  the  nature  of  things  such  conduct 
tends  to  bring.  Being  thus  without  theoretic  guid- 
ance, and  quite  incapable  of  guiding  herself  by 
tracing  the  mental  processes  going  on  in  her  chil- 
dren, her  rule  is  impulsive,  inconsistent,  mischiev- 
ous, often,  in  the  highest  degree;  and  would  in- 
deed be  generally  ruinous,  were  it  not  that  the  over- 
whelming tendency  of  the  growing  mind  to  assume 
the  moral  t^q^e  of  the  race,  usually  subordinates  all 
minor  influences. 

And  then  the  culture  of  the  intellect — is  not 
this,  too,  mismanaged  in  a  similar  manner?  \Grant 
that  the  phenomena  of  intelligence  conform  to 
laws;  grant  that  the  evolution  of  intelligence  in  a 
child  also  conforms  to  laws;  and  it  follows  inevita- 


X. 


46     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH? 

bly  that  education  can  be  riglitlj  guided  only  by  a 
knowledge  of  these  lawsf^  To  suppose  that  you  can 
properly  regulate  this  process  of  forming  and  accu- 
mulating ideas,  without  understanding  the  nature 
of  the  process,  is  absurd.  How  widely,  then,  must 
teaching  as  it  is,  differ  from  teaching  as  it  should 
be;  when  hardly  any  parents,  and  but  few  teacji£rs, 


kno3K--ajaytbiHg--abmrt_^psyc]iologyr  As  might  be 
expected,  the  system  is  grievously  at  fault,  alike  in 
matter  and  in  manner.  While  the  right  class  of 
facts  is  withheld,  the  wrong  class  is  forcibly  admin- 
istered in  the  wrong  way  and  in  the  wrong  order. 
With  that  common  limited  idea  of  education  which 
confines  it  to  knowledge  gained  from  books,  parents 
thrust  primers  into  the  hands  of  their  little  ones 
years  too  soon,  to  their  great  injury.  Not  recog- 
nising the  truth  that  the  function  of  books  is  sup- 
plementary—that they  form  an  indirect  means  to 
knowledge  when  direct  means  fail — a  means  of  see- 
ing through  other  men  what  you  cannot  see  for 
yourself;  they  are  eager  to  give  second-hand  facts 
in  place  of  first-hand  facts.  Not  perceiving  the  / 
enormous  value  of  that  spontaneous  education 
which  goes  on  in  early  years — not  perceiving  that 
a  child's  restless  observation,  instead  of  being  ig- 
nored or  checked,  should  be  diligently  administered 
to,  and  made  as  accurate  and  complete  as  possible; 


'^ 


IMPORTANCE  OF  PSYCHOLOGY.       47 

they  insist  on  occupying  its  eyes  and  tliouglits  with 
things  that  are,  for  the  time  being,  incomprehensi- 
ble and  repugnant.  Possessed  by  a  superstition 
which  worships  the  symbols  of  knowledge  instead 
of  the  knowdedge  itself,  they  do  not  see  that  only 
when  his  acquaintance  with  the  objects  and  pro- 


cesses  of  the  household,  the  streets,  and  the  fields,  is 
becoming  tolerably  exhaustive — only  then  should  a 
child  be  introduced  to  the  new  sources  of  informa- 
tion which  books  supply:  and  this,  not  only  because 
immediate  cognition  is  of  far  greater  value  than 
mediate  cognition;  but  also,  because  the  words  con- 
tained in  books  can  be  rightly  interpreted  into  ideas, 
only  in  proportion  to  the  antecedent  experience  of 
things.  Observe  next,  that  this  formal  instruction, 
far  too  soon  commenced,  is  carried  on  with  but  lit- 
tle reference  to  the  laws  of  mental  development. 
Intellectual  progress  is  of  necessity  from  the  con- 
crete  to  the  abstract.  But  regardless  of  this,  highly 
-^brfl rac L ■■sul3jects,  such  as  grammar,  wdiich  should 
come  quiie  late^are  begun  quite  early.  Political 
geography,  dead  and  uninteresting  to  a  child,  and 
which  should  be  an  appendage  of  sociological  stud- 
ies, is  commenced  betimes;  while  physical  geogra- 
phy, comprehensible  and  comparatively  attractive 
to  a  child,  is  in  great  part  passed  over.  ISTearly 
every  subject  dealt  wutli  is  arranged  in  abnormal 


48     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH  ? 

order:  definitions,  and  rules,  and  principles  being 
put  first,  instead  of  being  disclosed,  as  they  are  in 
fEe  order  of  nature,  through  the  study  of  cases. 
Ajjd  tliPTij  pprvading  the  whole,  is  tiie  vicious  s^ys- 
tem  of  rote  learning— a  system  of  sacrificing  the 
spirit  to  the  letter.  See  the  results^  What  with 
perceptions  unnaturally  dulled  by  early  thwarting, 
and  a  coerced  attention  to  books — what  with  the 
mental  confusion  produced  by  teaching  subjects  be- 
fore they  can  be  understood,  and  in  each  of  them 
giving  generalizations  before  the  facts  of#  which 
these  are  the  generalizations — what  with  making 
the  pupil  a  mere  passive  recipient  of  other's  ideas, 
and  not  in  the  least  leading  him  to  be  an  active  in- 
quirer or  self-instructor — and  what  with  taxing  the 
faculties  to  excess;  there  are  very  few  minds  that 
become  as  efficient  as  they  might  be.  Examina- 
tions being  once  passed,  books  are  laid  aside;  the 
greater  part  of  what  has  been  acquired,  being  un- 
organized, soon  drops  out  of  recollection;  what  re- 
mains is  mostly  inert — the  art  of  applying  knowl- 
edge not  having  been  cultivated;  and  there  is  but 
little  power  either  of  accurate  observation  or  inde- 
pendent thinking.  To  all  which  add,  that  while 
much  of  the  information  gained  is  of  relatively 
small  value,  an  immense  mass  of  information  of 
transcendent  value  is  entirely  passed  over. 


TASK  OF  UNFOLDING  A  HUMAN  BEING.       49 

Thus  we  find  the  facts  to  be  such  as  might  have 
been  inferred  a  priori.  The  training  of  children 
• — physical,  moral,  aiid*  intellectual — is  dreadfully 
defective.  And  in  great  measure  it  is  so,  because 
parents  are  devoid  of  that  knowledge  by  which  this 
training  can  alone  be  rightly  guided.  What  is  to 
be  expected  when  one  of  the  most  intricate  of  prob- 
lems is  undertaken  by  those  who  have  given 
scarcely  a  thought  to  the  principles  on  which  its 
solution  depends?  For  shoe-making  or  house- 
buildiifg,  for  the  management  of  a  ship  or  a  loco- 
motive-engine, a  long  apprenticeship  is  needful. 
Is  it,  then,  that  the  unfolding  of  a  human  being  in 
body  and  mind,  is  so  comparatively  simple  a  pro- 
cess, that  any  one  may  superintend  and  regulate  it 
with  no  preparation  whatever?  If  not — if  the  pro- 
cess is  with  one  exception  more  complex  than  any 
in  Nature,  and  the  task  of  administering  to  it  one 
of  surpassing  difficulty;  is  it  not  madness  to  make 
no  provision  for  such  a  task?  Better  sacrifice  ac- 
complishments than  omit  this  all-essential  instruc- 
tion. When  a  father,  acting  on  false  dogmas 
adopted  without  examination,  has  alienated  his 
sons,  driven  them  into  rebellion  by  his  harsh  treat- 
ment, ruined  them,  and  made  himself  miserable; 
he  might  reflect  that  tlie  study  of  Ethology  would 
have  been  worth  pursuing,  even  at  the  cost  oiinow- 


Xi 


50      WnAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH? 

ing  nothing  about  iEschylus.  Wlien  a  mother  is 
mourning  over  a  ErsT-born  that  has  sunk  under  the 
sequelae  of  scarlet^fever — when  perhaps  a  candid 
medical  man  has  confirmed  her  suspicion  that  her 
child  would  have  recovered  had  not  its  system  been 
enfeebled  by  over-study — when  she  is  prostrate 
under  the  pangs  of  combined  grief  and  remorse;  it 
is  but  a  small  consolation  that  she  can  read  Dante  in 
the  original. 

Thus  w-e  see  that  for  regulating  the  third  great 
division  of  human  activities,  a  knowledge  of  the 
laws_of  life  is  the  one  thing  needful.  Some  ac- 
quaintance with  the  first  principles  ^f  physiology 
and  the  elementary  truths  of  psychology  is  indis- 
pensable for  the  right  bringing  up  of  children^ 
We  doubt  not  that  this  assertion  will  by  many  be 
read  with  a  smile.  That  parents  in  general  should 
be  expected  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  subjects  so 
abstruse,  will  seem  to  them  an  absurdity.  And  if 
we  proposed  that  an  exhaustive  knowdedge  of  these 
subjects  should  be  obtained  by  all  fathers  and  moth- 
ers, the  absurdity  would  indeed  be  glaring  enough. 
But  we  do  not.  General  principles  only,  accom- 
panied by  such  detailed  illustrations  as  may  be 
needed  to  make  them  understood,  would  sufiice. 
And  these  might  be  readily  taught — if  not  rational- 
ly, then  dogmatically.     Be  this  as  it  may,  however, 


WORTHLESSNESS  OF  ORDINARY  HISTORY.     51 

here  are  the  indisputable  facts: — that  the  develop- 
ment of  children  in  mind  and  body  rigorously  obeys 
certain  laws;  that  unless  these  laws  are  in  some  de- 
gree conformed  to  by  parents,  death  is  inevitable; 
that  unless  they  are  in  a  great  degree  conformed  to, 
there  must  result  serious  physical  and  mental  de- 
fects; and  that  only  when  they  are  completely  con- 
formed to,  can  a  perfect  maturity  be  reached. 
■Judge,  then,  wdiether  all  who  may  one  day  be  pa- 
rents, should  not  strive  with  some  anxiety  to  learn 
what  these  laws  are. 

From  the  parental  functions  let  us  pass  now  to 
the  functions  of  the  citizen.  We  have  here  to  in- 
quire what  knowledge  best  fits  a  man  for  the  dis- 
charge of  these  functions.  It  cannot  be  alleged,  as 
in  the  last  case,  that  the  need  for  knowledge  fitting 
him  for  these  functions  is  wholly  overlooked;  for 
our  school  courses  contain  certain  studies  which, 
nominally  at  least,  bear  upon  political  and  social 
duties.  Of  these  the  only  one  that  occupies  a 
prominent  place  is  History. 

But,  as  already  more  than  once  hinted,  the  his- 
toric information  commonly  given  is  almost  value- 
less for  purposes  of  guidance.  Scarcely  any  of  the 
facts  set  down  in  our  school-histories,  and  very  few 
even  of  those  contained  in  the  more  elaborate  works 


52     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH? 

written  for  adultSj_give  any  clue  to  theriglitjgliP' 
ciples  of  j)o]itica1  action.      The  biographies  of  moiL^ 

archs  (and  our  children^commonly  learn  little  else) 

throw  scarcely  any  light  upon  the  science  of  society. 
Familiarity  with  court  intrigues,  plots,  usurpations, 
or  the  like,  and  with  all  the  personalities  accom- 
panying them,  aids  yery  little  in  elucidating  the 
principles  on  which  national  welfare  depends.  We 
read  of  some  squabble  for  power,  that  it  led  to  a 
pitched  battle;  that  such  and  such  were  the  names 
of  the  generals  and  their  leading  subordinates;  that 
they  had  each  so  many  thousand  infantry  and  cay- 
alry,  and  so  many  cannon ;  that  they  arranged  their 
forces  in  this  and  that  order;  that  they  manoeuyred, 
attacked,  and  fell  back  in  certain  ways;  that  at  this 
part  of  the  day  such  disasters  were  sustained,  and  at 
that  such  adyantages  gained ;  that  in  one  particular 
moyement  some  leading  officer  fell,  while  in  an- 
other a  certain  regiment  was  decimated;  that  after 
all  the  changing  fortunes  of  the  fight,  the  yictory 
was  gained  by  this  or  that  army;  and  that  so  many 
were  killed  and  wounded  on  each  side,  and  so  many 
captured  by  the  conquerors.  And  now,  out  of  the 
accumulated  details  which  make  up  the  narratiye, 
say  which  it  is  that  helps  you  in  deciding  on  your 
conduct  as  a  citizen.  Supposing  even  that  you  had 
diligently  read,  not  only  "  The  Fifteen  Decisive 


WORTHLESSNESS  OF  ORDINARY  HISTORY.     53 

Battles  of  the  World,"  but  accounts  of  all  other  bat- 
tles that  history  mentions;  how  much  more  judi- 
cious would  your  vote  be  at  the  next  election? 
"  But  these  are  facts — interesting  facts,"  you  say. 
Without  doubt  they  are  facts  (such,  at  least,  as  are 
not  wholly  or  partially  fictions) ;  and  to  many  they 
may  be'  interesting  facts.  But  this  by  no  means 
implies  that  they  are  valuable.  Factitious  or  mor- 
bid opinion  often  gives  seeming  value  to  things  that 
have  scarcely  any.  A  tulipomaniac  will  not  part 
with  a  choice  bulb  for  its  weight  in  gold.  To  an- 
other man  an  ugly  piece  of  cracked  old  china  seems 
his  most  desirable  possession.  And  there  are  those 
who  give  high  prices  for  the  relics  of  celebrated 
murderers.  Will  it  be  contended  that  these  tastes 
are  any  measures  of  value  in  the  things  that  gratify 
them?  If  not,  then  it  must  be  admitted  that  the 
liking  felt  for  certain  classes  of  historical  facts  is 
no  proof  of  their  worth ;  and  that  we  must  test  their 
worth  as  we  test  the  worth  of  other  facts,  by  asking 
to  what  uses  they  are  applicable.  Were  some  one 
to  tell  you  that  your  neighbour's  cat  kittened  yes- 
terday, you  would  say  the  information  was  worth- 
less. Fact  though  it  might  be,  you  would  say  it 
was  an  utterly  useless  fact — a  fact  that  could  in  no 
way  influence  your  actions  in  life — a  fact  that 
would  not  help  you  in  learning  how  to  live  com- 


^<c: 


V 


54     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IB  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

pletely.  Well,  apply  the  same  test  to  the  great 
mass  of  historical  facts,  and  you  will  get  the  same 
result.  Tlipy  nxck-^rii'l^^  fl'niii— sttluph  po  pmiplpsinns 
can  he  drawn — unorganizahle  facts;  and  therefore 
acts  which  can  he  of  no  service  m  establishing 
principles  of  conduct,  which  is  the  chief  use  of  facts. 
Kead  them,  if  you  like,  for  amusement;  but  do  not 
flatter  yourself  they  are  instructive. 

That  which  constitutes  History,  properly  so 
called,  is  in  great  part  omitted  from  works  on  the 
subject.  Only  of  late  years  have  historians  com- 
menced giving  us,  in  any  considerable  quantity, 
the  truly  valuable  information.  As  in  past  ages  the 
king  was  every  thing  and  the  people  nothing;  so, 
in  past  histories  the  doings  of  the  king  fill  the  entire 
picture,  to  which  the  national  life  forms  but  an  ob- 
scure background.  )  While  only  now,  when  the 
welfare  of  nations  rather  than  of  rulers  is  becoming 
the  dominant  idea,  are  historians  beginning  to  oc- 
cupy themselves  with  the  phenomena  of  social  prog- 
ress. That  which  it  really  concerns  us  to  know,  is 
the  natural  history  of  society.  We  want  all  facts 
which  help  us  to  understand  how  a  nation  has 
grown  and  organized  itselfJ  Among  these,  let  us 
of  course  have  an  account  of  its  government;  with 
as  little  as  may  be  of  gossip  about  the  men  who 
officered  it,  and  as  much  as  possible  about  the  struc- 


TRUE  USES  OF  HISTORY.  55 

ture,  principles,  methods,  prejudices,  corruptions, 
&c.,  which  it  exhibited:  and  let  this  account  not 
only  include  the  nature  and  actions  of  the  central 
government,  but  also  those  of  local  governments, 
down  to  their  minutest  ramifications.  Let  us  of 
course  also  have  a  parallel  description  of  the  eccle- 
siastical government — its  organization,  its  conduct, 
its  power,  its  relations  to  the  State:  and  accom- 
panying this,  the  ceremonial,  creed,  and  religious 
ideas — not  only  those  nominally  believed,  but  those 
really  believed  and  acted  upon.  Let  us  at  the  same 
time  be  informed  of  the  control  exercised  by  class 
over  class,  as  displayed  in  all  social  observances — in 
titles,  salutations,  and  forms  of  address.  Let  us 
know,  too,  what  were  all  the  other  customs  which 
regulated  the  popular  life  out  of  doors  and  in-doors : 
including  those  which  concern  the  relations  of  the 
sexes,  and  the  relations  of  parents  to  children.  The 
superstitions,  also,  from  the  more  important  myths 
down  to  the  charms  in  common  use,  should  be  indi- 
cated. Xext  should  come  a  delineation  of  the  in- 
dustrial system:  showing  to  what  extent  the  divi- 
sion of  labour  was  carried;  how  trades  were  regu- 
lated, whether  by  caste,  guilds,  or  otherwise;,  what 
was  the  connection  between  employers  and  em- 
ployed; what  were  the  agencies  for  distributing 
commodities,  what  were  the  means  of  communica- 


56     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

tion;  what  was  the  circulating  medium.  Accom.- 
panyiug  all  which  should  come  an  account  of  the 
industrial  arts  technically  considered:  stating  the 
processes  in  use,  and  the  quality  of  the  products. 
Further,  the  intellectual  condition  of  the  nation  in 
its  various  grades  should  be  depicted :  not  only  with 
respect  to  the  kind  and  amount  of  education,  but 
with  respect  to  the  progress  made  in  science,  and 
the  prevailing  manner  of  thinking.  The  degree  of 
aesthetic  culture,  as  displayed  in  architecture,  sculp- 
ture, painting,  dress,  music,  poetry,  and  fiction, 
should  be  described.  Nor  should  there  be  omitted 
a  sketch  of  the  daily  lives  of  the  people — their  food, 
their  homes,  and  their  amusements.  And  lastly, 
to  connect  the  whole,  should  be  exhibited  the 
morals,  theoretical  and  practical,  of  all  classes:  as 
indicated  in  their  laws,  habits,  proverbs,  deeds. 
All  these  facts,  given  with  as  much  brevity  as  con- 
sists with  clearness  and  accuracy,  should  be  so 
grouped  and  arranged  that  they  maj_bQ_jeem^pT^ 
hended  in  their  ensemble;  and  thus  jnay  be  con- 
templated  as  mutually  dependent  parts  of  one  great 
whole.  The  aim  should  be_^oJo_pr^£ntJhein  that 
we  may  readily  trace  the  consensus  subsisting 
among  them ;  with  the  view  of  learning  what  social 
p6^enomena  co-exist  with  what  others.  And  then 
the  corresponding  delineations  of  succeeding  ages 


HISTORY  A  DESCRIPTIVE  SOCIOLOGY.         57 

should  be  so  managed  as  to  show  us,  as  clearly  as 
may  be,  how  each  belief,  institution,  custom,  and 
arrangement  was  modified;  and  how  the  consensus 
of  preceding  structures  and  functions  was  devel- 
oped into  the  consensus  of  succeeding  ones.     Such 
alone  is  the  kind  of  information  respecting  past 
times,  which  can  be  of  service  to  the  citizen  for  the 
regulation  of  his  conduct.     The  only  history  that  is.,^ 
of  practical  value,  igwhat  may  be  called  Descrip- 
tive Sociology.     And  the  highest  office  which  the 
historian  can  discharge,  is  that  of  narrafiiig  the  lived  3=- 
of  nations,  as  to  furnish  materials  for  a  Compara- 
tive-^ociolo^^yiaud  fur  the  subbegueiil  determma-' 
tioitt)f  tlieultimate  laws  to  which  social  phenomena 

confonn: ~ ""^ — — — "' 

But  now  mark,  that  even  supposing  an  ade- 
quate stock  of  this  truly  valuable  historical  knowl- 
edge has  been  acquired,  it  is  of  comparatively  little 
use  withoutthe.  key.     And  the  key  is  to  be  found 
only  in  science.     WitliouL.^33:  QogutiaatoBce.  with  - 
the    general    truths    of    biology    and    psychology, 
ratiunal"  interpretation  ol  social  phenomena  is  im- 
•^  po^ble.     Only  in  proportion  as  men  obtain  a*  cer- 
•    tain  rude,  empirical  knowledge  of  human  nature, 
are  they  enabled  to  understand  even  the  simplest 
facts  of  social  life:  as,  for  instance,  the  relation 
■     between  supply  and  demand.     And  if  not  even 

9 


58     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH? 

the  most  elementary  truths  of  sociology  can  be 
reached  until  some  knowledge  is  obtained  of  how 
men  generally  think,  feel,  and  act  under  given  cir- 
cumstances; then  it  is  manifest  thatlthere  can  be 
nothing  like  a  wide  comprehension  of  sociology,  un- 
less through  a  competent  knowledge  of  man  in  all 
his  faculties,  bodily  and  mental.  Consider  the  mat- 
ter m  the  abstract,  and  this  conclusion  is  self-evi- 
deqiJ  Thus: — Society  is  made  up  of  individuals; 
all  that  is  done  in  society  is  done  by  the  com- 
bined actions  of  individuals;  and  therefore,  in 
individual  actions  only  can  be  found  the  solu- 
tions of  social  phenomena.  But  the.  actions  of 
individuals  dejDend  on  the  laws  of  their  natures; 
and  their  actions  cannot  be  understood  until  these 
laws  are  understood.  These  laws,  however,  when 
reduced  to  their  simplest  expression,  are  found  to 
depend  on  the  laws  of  body  and  mind  in  general. 
Hence  it  necessarily  follows,  that  biology  and  psy- 
chology are  indispensable  as  interpreters  of  sociol- 
ogy. Or,  to  state  the  conclusions  still  more  sim- 
ply:— all  social  phenomena  are  phenomena,  of  life 
— are  the  most  complex  manifestations  of  life — 
are  ultimately  dependent  on  the  laws  of  life — and 
can  be  understood  only  when  the  laws  of  life  are 
understood.  Thus,  then,  we  see  that  for  the  regu- 
lation of  this  fourth  division  of  human  activities, 


SCIENCE  THE  KEY  TO  HISTORY.  59 

we  are,  as  before,  dependent  on  Science.  Of  the 
knowledge  commonly  imparted  in  educational 
courses,  very  little  is  of  any  service  in  guiding  a 
man  in  his  conduct  as  a  citizen.  Only  a  small  part 
of  the  history  he  reads  is  of  practical  value;  and  of 
this  small  part  he  is  not  prepared  to  make  proper 
use.  He  commonly  lacks  not  only  the  materials 
for,  but  the  very  conception  of,  descriptive  soci- 
ology; and  he  also  lacks  that  knowledge  of  the 
organic  sciences,  without  which  even  descriptive 
sociology  can  give  him  but  little  aid. 

And  now  we  come  to  that  remaining  division  of 
human  life  which  includes  the  relaxations,  pleas- 
ures, and  amusements  filling  leisure  hours.  After 
considering  what  training  I^q^jI  ^^'^  if^'  gol-F-pvnn^Tnm .' 
tion.  for  tlip  nl^tfli^pnt  qf  nurtrnniirr  fnr  tlir  rlir — =3- 
charge  of  piTfutnl  rlntin, 'ind  iov  tVin  I'rrnilnlimi  of 
social  and  political  conduct:  w.e  have  now  to  con- 
siuer  wliat  training  best  fits  for  the  miscellaneous 
ends  not  included  in  these — for  the  enjoyment  of 
Natur(?,  of  Literature,  and  of  the  Tine  Arts,  in  all 
their  forms.  Postponing  them  as  we  do  to  things 
that  bear  more  vitally  upon  human  welfare;  and 
bringing  everything,  as  we  have,  to  the  tpst  nf  nc- 
±Hal  Vc^|^]f :  it  will  perhaps  be  inferred  that  we  are 
inclined  to  slight  these  less  essential  things.     No 


60     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

greater  mistake  could  be  made,  however.  We 
yield  to  none  in  the  valusjive  attach  to  aesthetic  cul- 
ture and  its  pleasuresj(TVithout  painting,  sculp- 
ture, music,  j)oetry,  and  the  emotions  produced  by 
natural  beauty  of  every  kind,  life  would  lose  half 
its  charm.  So  far  from  thinking  that  the  training 
and  gratification  of  the  tastes  are  unimportant,  we 
believe  the  time  will  come  when  they  will  occupy  a 
much  larger  share  of  human  life  than  now.  When 
the  forces  of  l^ature  have  been  fully  conquered  to 
man's  use — when  the  means  of  production  have 
been  brought  to  perfection — when  labour  has  been 
economized  to  the  highest  degree — when  education 
has  been  so  systematized  that  a  preparation  for  the 
more  essential  activities  may  be  made  with  com- 
parative rapidity — and  when,  consequently,  there 
is  a  great  increase  of  spare  time;  then  will  the 
poetry,  both  of  Art  and  l^ature,  rightly  fill  a  large 
space  in  the  minds  of  all.] 

But  it  is  one  thing  to  admit  that  aesthetic  cul- 
ture  ^  in  a  high  degree  conducive  to  human  hap- 
piness; and  another  thing  to  admiiTthat  TTts  a  fun- 
damental requisite  to  human~irapi5iness.     However 


jvvP     j   important  it  may  be,  it  must  yield  precedence  to' 
those  kinds  of  culture  which  bear  more  directly 
^ppn  the  duties  of  life.     As  before  hinted,  litera- 
ture and  the  fine'arts  are  made  possible  by  those  ac-. 


BANK  OP  ESTHETIC  CULTURE. 


61 


tivities  which  make  individual  and  social  life  pos- 
sible; and  manifestly,  that  which  is  made  possible, 
must  be  postponed  to  that  which  makes  it  possible, 
Q^  florist  cultivates  a  plant  for  the  sake  of  its  flower;  C^ 
and  regards  the  roots  and  leaves  as  of  value,  chiefly 
because  they  are  instrumental  in  producing  the 
flower.  But  while,  as  an  ultimate  product,  the 
flower  is  the  thing  to  which  everything  else  is  sub- 
ordinate, the  florist  very  well  knows  that  the  root 
and  leaves  are  intrinsically  of  greater  importance; 
because  on  them  the  evolution  of  the  flower  de- 
pendsH  He  bestows  every  care  in  rearing  a  healthy 
plant;  and  knows  it  would  be  folly  if,  in  his  anx- 
iety to  obtain  the  flower,  he  were  to  neglect  the 
plant.  Similarly  inthe_cagp'  Kpfprp  ns-  Arphit.£p^  ^i^ 
ture,  sculpture^  painting^  music^poetrj^^&c.,  may. 
be_JriJj__£aILed_±he-effl.Qresceiice_of  civilized  life^ 
But  even  supposing  them  to  be  of  such  transcendent 
worth  as  to  subordinate  the  civilized  life  out  of 
which  they  grow  (which  can  hardly  be  asserted), 
it  will  still  be  admitted  that  the  production  of  a 
lealthv  civilized  life  must  be  the  first  considera- 


tion; and  that  the  knowledge  conducing  to  this 
must  occupy  the  highest  place. 

And  here  we  f^ee  mnst^istinptly  the  vice  of  our 
educational  system.  I^  negler^ts  tbp  plant  for  the 
sake  of  the  flower.     In  anxietyfOT.^legftiipeT'it  for- 


62     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH  ? 

^ets  substance.  jVliile  it  gives  no  knowledge  con- 
ducive to  selF-prcservation — while  of  knowledge 
'  that  facilitates  gaining  a  livelihood  it  gives  but  the 
"1^'diments,  and  leaves  the  greater  part  to  be  picked 
up  any  how  in  after  life — while  for  the  discharge 
of  parental  functions  it  makes  not  the  slightest  pro- 
vision— and  while  for  the  duties  of  citizenship  it 
prepares  by  imparting  a  mass  of  facts,  most  of 
which  are  irrelevant,  and  the  rest  without  a  key;  it 
is  diligent  in  teaching  every  thing  that  adds  to  re- 
finement, polish,  eclat.  However  fully  we  may 
admit  that  extensive  acquaintance  with  modern 
languages  is  a  valuable  accomplishment,  which 
through  reading,  conversation,  and  travel,  aids  in 
giving  a  certain  finish;  it  by  no  means  follows  that 
this  result  is  rightly  purchased  at  the  cost  of  that 
vitally  important  knowledge  sacrificed  to  it,  /  Sup- 
posing it  true  that  classical  education  conduces  to 
elegance  and  correctness  of  style;  it  cannot  be  said 
that  elegance  and  correctness  of  style  are  compara- 
ble in  importance  to  a  familiarity  with  the  prin- 
ciples that  should  guide  the  rearing  of  children^ 
Grant  that  the  taste  may  be  greatly  improved  by 
reading  all  the  poetry  written  in  extinct  languages; 
yet  it  is  not  to  be  inferred  that  such  improvement  of 
taste  is  equivalent  in  value  to  an  acquaintance  with 
the   laws   of  health.      Accomplishments,   the   fine 


SCIENCE  UNDERLIES  THE  FINE  ARTS.         63 

arts,  belles-lettres,  and  all  those  things  which,  as  we 
say,  constitute  the  efflorescence  of  civilization, 
should  be  wholly  subordinate  to  that  knowledge 
and  discipline  in  which  civilization  rests.  As  they 
occupy  the  leisure  part  of  life,  so  should  they  occupy 
the  leisure  part  of  education. 

Recognising  thus  the  true  position  of  aesthetics, 
and  holding  that  while  the  cultivation  of  them 
should  form  a  part  of  education  from  its  commence- 
ment, such  cultivation  should  be  subsidiary;  we 
have  now  to  inquire  what  knowledge  is  of  most  use 
to  this  end — what  knowledge  best  fits  for  this  re- 
maining sphere  of  activity.  To  this  question  the 
answer  is  still  the  same  as  heretofore.  Unexpected 
as  the  assertion  may  be,  it  is  nevertheless  true,  that 
the  highest  Art  of  every  kind  is  basedupon  Science 
— that  without  Science  there  can  be  neither  perfect 
production  nor  full  appreciation.  Science,  in  that 
limited  technical  acceptation  current  in  society, 
may  not  have  been  possessed  by  many  artists  of 
high  repute;  but  acute  observers  as  they  have  been, 
they  have  always  possessed  a  stock  of  those  empiri- 
cal generalizations  which  constitute  science  in  its 
lowest  phase;  and  they  have  habitually  fallen  far 
below  perfection,  partly  because  their  generaliza- 
tions   were    comparatively    few    and    inaccurate. 


64     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

That  science  necessarily  underlies  the  fine  arts,  be- 
comes manifest,  a  priori^  when  we^-xamPTuhpy  j-hat. 
art-pjoducts  are  all  more  or  less  representative  of 
objective  and  subjective  phenomena;  that  they  can 
be  true  only  in  proportion  as  they  conform  to  the 
laws  of  these  phenomenap^nd^that  before  they  can 
thus  conform  the  artist  must  know  what  these  laws 
are.  That  this  a  priori  conclusion  tallies  with  ex- 
perience we  shall  soon  see. 

Youths  preparing  for  the  practice  of^miTpiviire. 
have  to  acquaint  themselves  with  the  bones  and 
muscles  of  the  human  frame  in  their  distribution, 
attachments,  and  movements^  This  is  a  portion 
of  science;  and  it  has  been  found  needful  to  impart 
it  for  the  prevention  of  those  many  errors  which 
sculptors  who  do  not  possess  it  commit.  For  the 
prevention  of  other  mistakes,  a  knowledge  of  me- 
chanical principles  is  requisite;  and  such  knowl- 
edge not  being  usually  possessed,  grave  mechanical 
mistakes  are  frequently  made.  Take  an  instance. 
For  the  stability  of  a  figure  it  is  needful  that  the 
perpendicular  from  the  centre  of  gravity — "  the 
line  of  direction,"  as  it  is  called — should  fall  within 
the  base  of  support;  and  hence  it  happens,  that 
when  a  man  assumes  the  attitude  knowm  as  "  stand- 
ing at  ease,"  in  which  one  leg  is  straightened  and 
the  other  relaxed,  the  line  of  direction  falls  within 


USES  OF  SCIENCE  TO  THE  PAINTER.  65 

tlie  foot  of  the  straightened  leg.  But  sculptors  un- 
familiar with  the  theory  of  equilibrium,  not  un- 
commonly so  represent  this  attitude,  that  the  line 
of  direction  falls  midway  between  the  feet.  Igno- 
rance of  the  laws  of  momentum  leads  to  analogous 
errors:  as  witness  the  admired  Discobolus,  which, 
as  it  is  posed,  must  inevitably  fall  forward  the  mo- 
ment the  quoit  is  delivered. 

In  painting,  the  necessity  for  scientific  knowl- 
edge, empirical  if  not  rational,  is  still  more  con- 
spicuous.  ,  In  what  consists  the  grotesqueness  of 
Chinese,  pictures,  unless  in  their  utter  disregard  of    J/  ^^'J/ 
the  laws  of  appearances — in  their  absurd  linear  per-        '**'^^l,.l^ 
spectiye,  and  their  want  of  aerial  perspective?    "Tn        .^^^.^M^ 
what  are  the  drawings  of  a  child  so  faulty,  if  not  in        ^.«'-*^  <U^ 
a  similar  absence  of  truth — an  absence  arising,  in 
great  part,  from  ignorance  of  the  way  in  which 
the  aspects  of  things  vary  with  the  conditions?    Do 
but  remember  the  books   and  lectures  by  which 
students  are  instructed;  or  consider  the  criticisms 
of  Kuskin;  or  look  at  the  doings  of  the  Pre-Eaffael- 
ites;  and  you  will  see  that  progress  in  painting  im- 
plies increasing  knowledge  of  how  effects  in  iSTature 
aV»*-j)XQduced.    Xb£^-m€>st--dTligetrt---ebs&rvation,  if     ly 
not  aided  by  science,  fails  to  preserve  from  error. 
Every'painter  will  indorse  the  asseriioilthat  unless 

it  is  known  what  appearances  must  exist  under  given 
10 


66     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH  ? 

circumstances,  they  often  will  not  be  perceived; 
and  to  know  what  ajDpearances  must  exist,  is,  in  so 
far,  to  understand  the  science  of  appearances. 
From  want  of  science  Mr.  J.  Lewis,  careful  painter 
as  he  is,  casts  the  shadow  of  a  lattice-window  in 
sharply-defined  lines  upon  an  opposite  wall;  which 
he  would  not  have  done,  had  he  been  familiar  with 
the  phenomena  of  penumbrse.  From  want  of 
science,  Mr,  Kosetti,  catching  sight  of  a  peculiar 
iridescence  displayed  by  certain  hairy"  surfaces 
under  particular  lights  (an  iridescence  caused  by 
the  diffraction  of  light  in  passing  the  hairs),  com- 
mits the  error  of  showing  this  iridescence  on  sur- 
faces and  in  positions  where  it  could  not  occur. 
_^  [jTo  say  that  music,  too,  has  need  of  scientific  aid 
will  seem  still  more  surprising.  Yet  it  is  demon- 
strable that  music  is  but  an  idealization  of  the  nat- 
ural language  of  emotion;  and  that  consequently, 
music  must  be  good  or  bad  according  as  it  conforms 
to  the  laws  of  this  natural  language.  The  various 
inflections  of  voice  which  accompany  feelings  of 
different  kinds  and  intensities,  have  been  shown  to 
be  the  germs  out  of  which  music  is  developed  J  It 
has  been  further  shown,  that  these  inflections  and 
cadences  are  not  accidental  or  arbitrary;  but  that 
they  are  determined  by  certain  general  principles 
of  vital  action;  and  that  their  expressiveness  de- 


SCIENCE  DEALS  WITH  MUSIC  AND  POETRY.     67 

pends  on  this.     Whence  it  follows  that   musical 
phrases  and  the  melodies  built  of  them,  can  be  ef- 
fective only  when  they  are  in  harmony  with  these 
general  principles.     It  is  difficult  here  properly  to 
illustrate'  this  position.     But  perhaps  it  will  suffice 
to  instance  the  swarms  of  worthless  ballads  that  in- 
fest drawing-rooms,  as  compositions  which  science 
would  forbid.     They_sin^against  scieiice^b^setting  ^    J  t  ^A^ 
to  music  ideas  that  are  not  emotional  enough  to      ^^.^JlXJ  A^ 
prompt    musical    expression;    and    they    also    sin  f^^^t^,.,,JiJ  ^ 
against  science  by  using  musical  phrases  that  have     /ic<A,  '  /J  ^ 
no  natural  relation  to  the  ideas  expressed:  even 
where  these  are  emotional.     They  are  bad  because 
they  are  untrue,  and  to  say  they  are  untrue,  is  to 
say  they  are  unscientific. 

Even  in  poetry  the  same  thing  holds^     Like  ^ 

music,  poetry  has  its  root  in  those  natural  modes  of 
expression  winch  ac^mj2any__deep  feeling.  Its 
rhythm,  its  strong  and  numerous  metaphors,  its  hy- 
perboles, its  violent  inversions,  are  simply  exaggera- 
tions of  the  traits  of  excited  speech.  jTo  be  good, 
therefore,  poetry  must  pay  respect  to  iHose  laws  of 
nervous  actions  which  excited  speech  obeysTi  In  in- 
tensifying and  combining  the  traits  of  excited 
speech,  it  must  have  due  regard  to  proportion — 
must  not  use  its  appliances  without  restriction ;  but, 
where  the  ideas  are  least  emotional,  must  use  the 


68     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORT^? 

forms  of  poetical  expression  sparingly;  must  use 
tliem  more  freely  as  the  emotion  rises;  and  must 
carry  them  all  to  their  greatest  extent  only  where 
the  emotion  reaches  a  climax.  The  entire  contra- 
vention of  these  principles  results  in  bombast  or -dog- 
gerel. The  insufficient  respect  for  them  is  seen  in 
didactic  poetry.  And  it  is  because  they  are  rarely 
fully  obeyed,  that  we  have  so  much  poetry  that  is 
inartistic. 

]^ot  only  is  it  that  the  artist,  of  whatever  kind, 
cannot  produce  a  truthful  work  without  he  under- 
stands the  laws  of  the  phenomena  he  represents; 
but  it  is  that  he  must  also  understand  how  the  minds 
of  spectators  or  listeners  will  be  affected  by  the 
several  peculiarities  of  his  work — a  question  in  psy- 
chology. What  impression  any  given  art-product 
generates,  manifestly  depends  upon  the  mental  na- 
tures of  those  to  whom  it  is  presented;  and  as  all 
mental  natures  have  certain  general  principles  in 
common,  there  must  result  certain  corresponding 
general  principles  on  which  alone  art-products  can 
be  successfully  framed.  These  general  principles 
cannot  be  fully  understood  and  applied,  unless  the 
artist  sees  how  they  follow  from  the  laws  of  mind. 
_Tp  ask  whether  the  composition  of  a  picture  is  good, 
J^  is  really  to  ask  how  the  perceptions  and  feelings  of 
observers  will  be  affected  by  it.     To  ask  whether  a 


y 


SCIENCE  NECESSARY  TO  APPRECIATE  ART.     69 

drama  is  well  constructed,  is  to  ask  whether  its  sit-        ,  y 

nations  are  so  arranged  as  duly  to  consult  the  power  ^'  a^M^ 
of  attention  of  an  audience,  and  duly  to  avoid  over-  ^ 
taxing  any  one  class  of  feelings.  Equally  in  ar- 
ranging the  leading  divisions  of  a  poem  or  fiction, 
and  in  combining  the  words  of  a  single  sentence, 
the  goodness  of  the  effect  depends  upon  the  skill 
with  which  the  mental  energies  and  susceptibilities 
of  the  reader  are  economized.  Every  artist,  in  the 
course  of  his  education  and  after-life,  accumulates  a 
stock  of  maxims  by  which  his  practice  is  regulated. 
Trace  such  maxims  to  their  roots,  and  you  find  they 
inevitably  lead  you  down  to  psychological  princi- 
ples. And  only  when  the  artist  rationally  under- 
stands these  psychological  principles  and  their  va- 
rious corollaries,  can  he  work  in  harmony  with 
them. 

We  da-«TTtrfm»-4i-jiionient  believe  that  science 


will  make--»in  uiLiuL  WtiiTe"we  contend  that  the 
leading  laws  both  of  objective  and  subjective  phe- 
nomena must  be  understood  by  him,  we  by  no 
meaj^^gTcontendthat  knowledge  of  such  laws  will 
serve  in  place  of  natural  perception.  Not  only  tha 
poet,  but  also  the  artist  ot  every  type,  is  born,  not\ 
mjidp-  Whi^t  wp  asserFis  tJiat,  irrfTntTTfifTciilty-aiaa&I 
'will  not&uffice;  but  munt  hiiiiai_the  aid  of  organized 
knowledge.     Intuition  will  do  much,  but  it  will 


70     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH  ?  y 

not  do  all.  (Only  Avlien  Gptiius  is  married  to  Sci- 
ence  can  the  higliest  results  be  produced.  "} 

s  we.  have  above  asserted,  Science  is  necessary 
not  only  for  the  most  successful  production,  but 
also  for  the  full  appreciation  of  the  fine  arts.#  In 
what  consists  the  greater  ability  of  a  man  than  of 
a  child  to  perceive  the  beauties  of  a  picture;  unless 
it  is  in  his  more  extended  knowledge  of  those  truths 
in  nature  or  life  which  the  picture  renders?  .  How 
happens  the  cultivated  gentleman  to  enjoy  a  fine 
poem  so  much  more  than  a  boor  does;  if  it  is  not 
because  his  wider  acquaintance  with  objects  and  ac- 
tions enables  him  to  see  in  the  poem  much  that  the 
boor  cannot  see?  And  if,  as  is  here  so  obvious, 
there  must  be  some  familiarity  with  the  things  rep- 
resented, before  the  representation  can  be  appreci- 
ated; then  the  representation  can  be  completely  ap- 
preciated, only  in  proportion  as  the  things  repre- 
sented are  completely  understood.  The  fact  is, 
that  every  additional  truth  which  a  work  of  art 

A  expresses,  gives  an  additional  pleasure  to  the  per- 
cipient mind — a  pleasure  that  is  missed  by  those 
ignorant  of  this  truth.  The  more  realities  an  artist 
indicates  in  any  given  amount  of  work,  the  more 
faculties  does  he  appeal  to;  the  more  numerous  as- 

jLljsociated  ideas  does  he  suggest;  the  more  gratifica- 
tion does  he  afford.  *)  But  to  receive  this  gratifica- 


SCIENCE  ITSELF  POETIC.  71 

tion  the  spectator,  listener,  or  reader,  must  know 
the  realities  which  the  artist  has  indicated;  and  to 
know  these  realities  is  to  know  so  much  science.   ' — 

And  now  let  us  not  overlook  the  further  great 
fact|^  that  not  only  dq^  science  underlie  sculpture, 
paintin":,  muaiCr  poctn^But  rhnr,  ^ei(?fr7?tr-i,^  it'^p'if  ^ 
poetic.  T^Lf  ciP'^''^^"'^  npniiAn  tlmt  gpip]]pe  and  po- 
'efry'are  opposed  is  a  delusion.  It  is  doubtless  true 
that  as  states  of  consciousness,  cognition  and  enio- 
^11  li'nd'  lo  eo^cTudeeach  other!  And  it  is  doubt- 
less alsotrue  that  an  extreme  activity  of  the  reflec-" 
five  powers  tends  to  deaden  the  feelings;  while  an 
extreme  activity  of  the  feelings  tends  to  deaden  the 
re'ftectiv'e'ptnycro :  in  which  oonoc,  indeed,  all  urd^s 
of  activity  are  antagonistic  to  each  other,  ^^ut  it 
is  not  true  that  the  facts  of  science  are  unpoetical; 
or  that  the  cultivation  of  science  is  necessarily  un- 
friendly to  the  exercise  of  imagination  or  the  love 
of  the  beautiful.  On  the  contrary  science  opens  up 
realms  of  poetry  where  to  the  unscientific  all  is  a 
blank.  Those  engaged  in  scientific  researches  con- 
stantly show  us  that  they  realize  not  less  vividly, 
but  more  vividly,  than  others,  the  poetry  of  their 
subjects.  \  Whoever  will  dip  into  Hugh  Miller's 
works  on  geology  or  read  ]\Ir.  Lewes's  "  Seaside 
Studies,"  will  perceive  that  science  excites  poetry 
rather  than   extinguishes   it.     And   whoever   will 


72     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH? 

contemplate  tlie  life  of  Goethe  will  see  that  the  poet 
and  the  man  of  science  can  co-exist  in  equal  activi- 
ty. Is  it  not,  indeed,  an  absm'd  and  almost  a  sacri- 
legious belief  that  the  more  a  man  studies  Nature 
the  less  he  reveres  it?  Think  you  that  a  drop  of 
water,  which  to  the  vulgar  eye  is  but  a  drop  of 
water,  loses  anything  in  the  eye  of  the  physicist 
who  knows  that  its  elements  are  held  together  by  a 
force  which,  if  suddenly  liberated,  would  produce  a 
flash  of  lightning?  Think  you  that  what  is  care- 
lessly looked  upon  by  the  uninitiated  as  a  mere 
snow-flake,  does  not  suggest  higher  associations  to 
one  who  has  seen  through  a  microscope  the  won- 
drously  varied  and  elegant  forms  of  snow-crystals? 
Think  you  that  the  rounded  rock  marked  with  par- 
allel scratches  calls  up  as  much  poetry  in  an  igno- 
rant mind  as  in  the  mind  of  a  geologist,  who  knows 
that  over  this  rock  a  glacier  slid  a  million  years  ago? 
/The  truth  is,  that  those  who  have  never  entered 
upon  scientific  pursuits  know  not  a  tithe  of  the 
poetry  by  which  they  are  surrounded.  Whoever 
has  not  in  youth  collected  plants  and  insects,  knows 
not  half  the  halo  of  interest  which  lanes  and  hedge- 
rows can  assume^  Whoever  has  not  sought  for  fos- 
sils, has  little  idea  of  the  poetical  associations  that 
surround  the  places  where  imbedded  treasures  were 
found.     Whoever  at  the  seaside  has  not  had  a  mi- 


SCIENCE  ITSELF  POETIC.  Y3 

croscope  and  aquarium,  has  yet  to  learn  what  the 
highest  pleasures  of  the  seaside  are.     Sad,  indeed, 
is  it  to  see  how  men  occupy  themselves  with  triviali- 
ties, and  are  indifferent  to  the  grandest  phenomena 
— care  not  to  understand  the  architecture  of  the 
Heavens,  but  are  deeply  interested  in  some  con- 
temptible controversy  about  the  intrigues  of  Mary 
^ueen    of    Scots! — are    learnedly    critical    over    a 
rreek  ode,  and  pass  by  without  a  glance  that  grand 
?pic  written  by  the  finger  of  God  upon  the  strata  of 
•   /the  Earth! 

— We  find,  then,  that  even  for  this  remaining  di- 
vision of  human  activities,  scientific  culture  is  the 
proper  preparation.  AVe  find  that  aesthetics  in 
general  are  necessarily  based  upon  scientific  princi- 
ples; and  can  be  pursued  w^th  complete  success 
only  through  an  acquaintance  with  these  principles. 
We  find  that  for  the  criticism  and  due  appreciation 
of  works  of  art,  a  knowledge  of  the  constitution  of 
things,  or  in  other  words,  a  knowledge  of  science,  is 
requisite.  And  we  not  only  find  that  science  is  the 
handmaid  to  all  forms  of  art  and  poetry,  but  that, 
rightly  regarded,  science  is  itself  poetic. 

Thus  far  our  question  has  been,  the  worth  of 
knowledge  of  this  or  that  kind  for  purposes  of  guid- 
ance.    We  have  now  to  judge  the  relative  values 
11 


lX 


Y4     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH  f 

of  jjjfff;r^nt.  "kinrls  of  knowledge  for  purposes  of 

discipline.     This  division   of   our   subject  we   are 

obliged  to  treat  with  comparative  brevity;  and  hap- 
pily, no  very  lengthened  treatment  of  it  is  needed. 
Having  found  what  is  best  for  the  one  end,  we 
have  by  implication  found  what  is  best  for  the 
other.  We  may  be  quite  sure  that  the  acquirement 
of  those  classes  of  facts  which  are  most  useful  for 
regulating  conduct,  involves  a  mental  exercise  best 
fitted  for  strengthening  the  faculties.  It  would  be 
utterly  contrary  to  the  beautiful  economy  of  ISTa- 
ture,  if  one  kind  of  culture  were  needed  for  the 
gaining  of  information  and  another  kind  were 
needed  as  a  mental  gymnastic.  Everywhere 
throughout  creation  we  find  faculties  developed 
through  the  performance  of  those  functions  which 
it  is  their  ofiice  to  perform;  not  through  the  per- 
formance of  artificial  exercises  devised  to  fit  them 
for  these  functions.  The  Red  Indian  acquires  the 
swiftness  and  agility  which  make  him  a  successful 
hunter,  by  the  actual  pursuit  of  animals;  and  by 
the  miscellaneous  activities  of  his  life,  he  gains  a 
better  balance  of  physical  powers  than  gymnastics 
ever  give,  j  That  skill  in  tracking  enemies  and  prey 
which  he  ha5  reached  by  long  practice,  implies  a 
N^  subtlety  of  perception  far  exceeding  anj^thing 
produced    by    artificial    trainingTj  And    similarly 


STUDIES  BEST  ADAPTED  FOR  DISCIPLINE.    75 

throughout.  From  the  Bushman,  whose  eye, 
which  being  habitually  employed  in  identifying 
distant  objects  that  are  to  be  pursued  or  fled  from, 
has  acquired  a  quite  telescopic  range,  to  the  ac- 
countant whose  daily  practice  enables  him  to  add 
up  several  columns  of  figures  simultaneously,  we 
find  that  the  highest  power  of  a  faculty  results  from 
the  discharge  of  those  duties  which  the  conditions 
of  life  require  it  to  discharge,  witnd  we  may  be 
certain,  a  prioi'i,  that  the  same  law  holds  througlT- 
out  education.  The  education  of  most  value  for 
guidance,  must  at  the  same  time  be  the  education 
of  most  value  fordisciplio*'— .  Let  us  consider  the' 
evidence. 

<t)ne  advantage  claimed  for  that  devotion  to 
language-learning  which  forms  so  prominent  a 
feature  in  the  ordinary  curriculum,  is,  that  the 
memory  is  thereby  strengthened.J  And  it  is  ap- 
parently assumed  that  this  is  an  advantage  peculiar 
to  the  study  of  words.  jfBut  the  truth  is,  that  the 
sciences  afford  far  wider  fields  for  the  exercise  of 
memory.  It  is  no  slight  task  to  remember  all  the 
facts  ascertained  respecting  our  solar  system;  much 
more  to  remember  all  that  is  known  concerning  the 
structure  of  our  galaxy.  The  new  compounds 
which  chemistry  daily  accumulates,  are  so  numer- 
ous that  few,  save  professors,  know  the  names  of 


\ 


76     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OP  MOST  WORTH? 

them  all;  and  to  recollect  the  atomic  constitutions 
and  affinities  of  all  these  compounds,  is  scarcely 
possible  without  making  chemistry  the  occupation 
of  life.y  In  the  enormous  mass  of  phenomena  pre- 
sented by  the  Earth's  crust,  and  in  the  still  more 
enormous  mass  of  phenomena  presented  by  the  fos- 
sils it  contains,  there  is  matter  which  it  takes  the 
geological  student  years  of  application  to  master. 
In  each  leading  division  of  physics — sound,  heat, 
light,  electricity — the  facts  are  numerous  enough 
to  alarm  any  one  proposing  to  learn  them  all.  And 
when  we  pass  to  the  organic  sciences,  the  effort  of 
memory  required  becomes  still  greater.  In  human 
anatomy  alone,  the  quantity  of  detail  is  so  great, 
that  the  young  surgeon  has  commonly  to  get  it  up 
half-a-dozen  times  before  he  can  permanently  re- 
tain it.  The  number  of  species  of  plants  which 
botanists  distinguish,  amounts  to  some  320,000; 
while  the  varied  forms  of  animal  life  with  which 
the  zoologist  deals,  are  estimated  at  some  two  mil- 
lions. So  vast  is  the  accumulation  of  facts  which 
men  of  science  have  before  them,  that  only  by 
dividing  and  subdividing  their  labours  can  they 
deal  with  it.  To  a  complete  knowledge  of  his  own 
division,  each  adds  but  a  general  knowledge  of  the 
rest.  Surely,  then,  science,  cultivated  even  to  a 
very  moderate  extent,  affords  adequate  exercise  for 


DISCIPLINE  OP  MEMORY  AND  JUDGMENT.     77 

memory.  To  say  the  very  least,  it  involves  quite 
as  good  a  training  for  this  faculty  as  language  does. 
But  now  mark  that  while  for  the  training  of 
mere  memory,  science  is  as  ^ood  as,  if  not  better 
thanplauguage ;  it  has  an  immense  superiority  in 
the  kind  of  memorv  it  cultivates.     In  the  acquire- 


ment of  a  language,  tlie  connexions,  of  ideas  to  be 
cstablislied  in  the  liimcl  correspond  to  facts  that  are 

^m  great  measure  acci(Icntal ;  \vhercas,  m  the  ac-' 
qmremeiir'"^~science7  tTTe~"0"ounexiOTlH"Of''idi?as-feo  be 
estat^isli£d_in_tli£-jaind"correfeponrl  to._£acts_tbat  are 
mostly  necessary.     It  is  true  that  the  relations  of 

'woTrfe^oJiLeiiLIlieaning  is  in  one  sense  natural,  and 
that  the  genesis  of  these  relations  may  be  traced 
back  a  certain  distance;  though  very  rarely  to  the 
beginning;  (to  which  let  us  add  the  remark  that 
the  laws  of  this  genesis  form  a  branch  of  mental 
science — the  science  of  philology.)  But  since  it 
wdll  not  be  contended  that  in  the  acquisition  of 
languages,  as  ordinarily  carried  on,  these  natural 
relations  between  words  and  their  meanings  are 
habitually  traced,  and  the  laws  regulating  them 
explained;  it  must  be  admitted  that  they  arexom- 
monly  learnfifl  as  fortuitous  relations.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  relatio'hs-'whicli.science  presents  are 
casuaj_  relations ;  and,  when  properly  taught,  are 
understood  as  such.     Instead  of  being  practically 


/ 


78     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

\^     accidental,  they  are  necessary;  and  as  such,  give 
exeroise    to    the   reasoning   faculties.     While    Ian-    ) 
\\\,  grijlge  familiarizes  with  non-rational  relations,  sci-   L 

^jv      y     y^ce  familiarizes  with   rational  relations.     While    \ 
ij     ^AK^  sY'  the  one  exercises  memory  only,  the  other  exercises     J 
JV;  ^^      both  memory  and  undpT-c:ft^]^|^]|no- 

>j'^  ^V  Observe  next  that  a  great  superiority  of  science 

,Cj  over  language  as  a  means  of  discipline,  is,  that  it 

cultivates  the  judgment.  As,  in  a  lecture  on  men- 
tal  education  aelivered  at  the  Royal  Institution, 
Professor  Faraday  well  remarks,  the  most  common 
intellectual  fault  is  deficiency  of  judgment.  He 
contends  that  "  society,  speaking  generally,  is  not 
only  ignorant  as  respects  education  of  the  judg- 
ment, but  it  is  also  ignorant  of  its  ignorance." 
And  the  cause  to  which  he  ascribes  this  state  is 
want  of  scientific  culture.  The  truth  of  his  con- 
clusion is  obvious.  Correct  judgment  with  regard 
to  all  surrounding  things,  events,  and  consequences, 
becomes  possible  only  through  knowledge  of  the 
way  in  which  surrounding  phenomena  depend  on 
each  other.  \^o  extent  of  acquaintance  with  the 
meanings  of  words,  can  give  the  power  of  forming 
correct  inferences  respecting  causes  and  effect3._j 
The  constant  habit  of  drawing  conclusions  from 
data,  and  then  of  verifying  those  conclusions  by  ob- 
servation and  experiment,  can  alone  give  the  power 


SCIENCE  AFFORDS  MORAL  DISCIPLINE.        79 

of  judging  correctly.  And  that  it  necessitates 
this  habit  is  one  of  the  immense  advantages  of  sci- 
ence. 

^^^t  only,  however,  for  intellectual  discipline  is 
science  the  best ;  but  also  for  moral  discipline.  _J 
The  learning  of  languages  tends,  if  anything,  fur- 
ther to  increase  the_  already  undue  respect  for  au- 
thority. Such  and  such  are  the  meanings  of  these 
words,  says  the  teacher  or  the  dictionary.  So  and 
so  is  the  rule  in  this  case,  says  the  grammar.  By 
the  pupil  these  dicta  are  received  as  unquestionable. 
His  constant  attitude  of  mind  is  that  of  submission 
to  dogmatic  teaching.  And  a  necessary  result  is  a 
tendency  to  accept  without  inquiry  whatever  is  es- 
tablished. Quite  opposite  is  the  attitude  of  mind 
generated  by  the  cultivation  of  science.  By  sci- 
ence, constant  appeal  is  made  to  individual  reason. 
Its  truths  are  not  accepted  upon  authority  alone; 
but  all  are  at  liberty  to  test  them — nay,  in  many 
cases,  the  pupil  is  required  to  think  out  his  own  con- 
clusions. Every  step  in  a  scientific  investigation  is 
submitted  to  his  judgment.  He  is  not  asked  to  ad- 
mit it  without  seeing  it  to  be  true.  And  the  trust 
in  his  own  powers  thus  produced,  is  further  in- 
creased by  the  constancy  with  which  IJ^ature  justi- 
fies his  conclusions  when  they  are  correctly  drawn. 
From    all    which    there    flows   that    independence 


80     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH  ? 

which  is  a  most  valuable  element  in  character. 
Nor  is  this  the  only  moral  benefit  bequeathed  by 
scientific  culture.  When  carried  on,  as  it  should 
always  be,  as  much  as  possible  under  the  form  of  in- 
dependent research,  it  exercises  perseverance  and 
sincerity.  As  says  Professor  Tyndall  of  inductive 
inquiry,  "  it  requires  patient  industry,  and  an  hum- 
ble and  conscientious  acceptance  of  what  Nature 
reveals.  The  first  condition  of  success  is  an  honest 
receptivity  and  a  willingness  to  abandon  all  precon- 
ceived notions,  however  cherished,  if  they  be  found 
to  contradict  the  truth.  Believe  me,  a  self-renun- 
ciation which  has  something  noble  in  it,  and  of 
which  the  world  never  hears,  is  often  enacted  in 
the  private  experience  of  the  true  votary  of  sci- 
enc;p." 

/^.Lastly  we  have  to  assert — and  the  assertion  will, 
we  doubt  not,  cause  extreme  surprise — that  the 
discipline  of  science  is  superior  to  that  of  our  ordi- 
nary education,  because  of  the_reliQious  cTilLuie 
that  it  givesH  Of  course  we  do  not  here  use  the 
words  scientific  and  religious  in  their  ordinary  lim- 
ited acceptations;  but  in  their  widest  and  highest 
acceptations.  Doubtless,  to  the  superstitions  that 
pass  under  the  name  of  religion,  science  is  antago- 
nistic; but  not  to  the  essential  religion  which  these 
superstitions  merely  hide.     Doubtless,  too,  in  much 


RELIGIOUS  INFLUENCE  OF  SCIENCE.  81 

of  the  science  that  is  current,  there  is  a  pervading 

spirit  of  irreligion;  but  not  in  that  true  science 

which  has  passed  beyond  the  superficial  into  the 

profound. 

"True  science  and  true  religion,"  says  Professor  Huxley 
at  the  close  of  a  recent  course  of  lectures,  "are  twin-sisters, 
and  the  separation  of  either  from  the  other  is  sure  to  prove 
the  death  of  both.  Science  prospers  exactly  in  proportion 
as  it  is  religious;  and  religion  flourishes  in  exact  proportion 
to  the  scientific  depth  and  firmness  of  its  basis.  The  great 
deeds  of  philosophers  have  been  less  the  fruit  of  their  intel- 
lect than  of  the  direction  of  that  intellect  by  an  eminently 
religious  tone  of  mind.  Truth  has  yielded  herself  rather  to 
their  patience,  their  love,  their  single-heartedness,  and  their 
self-denial,  than  to  their  logical  acumen." 

So  far  from  science  being  irreligious,  as  many 
think,  it  is  the  neglect  of  science  that  is  irreligious 
— it  is  thr__roti]rinL  to  ntudy  tlin  surromiding  crc- 
ation  that  is  irreligious.  Take  a  humble  simile. 
Suppose  a  writer  were  daily  saluted  with  praises 
couched  in  superlative  language.  Suppose  the 
wisdom,  the  grandeur,  the  beauty  of  his  works, 
Avere  the  constant  topics  of  the  eulogies  addressed  to 
him.  Suppose  those  who  unceasingly  uttered  these 
eulogies  on  his  works  were  content  with  looking 
at  the  outsides  of  them;  and  had  never  opened 
them,  much  less  tried  to  understand  them.  What 
value  should  we  put  upon  their  praises?  What 
should  we  think  of  their  sincerity?     Yet,  compar- 


82     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

ing  small  things  to  great,  such  is  the  conduct  of 
mankind  in  general,  in  reference  to  the  Universe 
and  its  Cause.  jSTay,  it  is  worse.  Not  only  do  they 
pass  by  without  study,  these  things  which  they 
daily  proclaim  to  be  so  wonderful;  but  very  fre- 
quently they  condemn  as  mere  triflers  those  who 
give  time  to  the  observation  of  Nature — they  actu- 
ally scorn  thos^who  show  any  active  interest  in 
these  marvels.  |  We  repeat,  then,  that  not  science, 
but  the  neglect  of  science,  is  irreligious.  Devotion 
^  to  science,  is  a  tacit  worship — a  tacit  recognition  of 
worth  in  the  things  studied;  and  by  implicatioiLin  - 
their  Cause.  It  is  not  a  mere  lip-homage,  but  a 
homage  expressed  in  actions — not  a  mere  professed 
\respect,  but  a  respect  proved  by  the  sacrifice  of  time, 
thought,  and  labour."! 

Nor  is  it  thus  only  that  true  science  is  essen- 
tially religious.  It  is  religious,  too,  inasmuch  ./ 
as  it  generates,^  profound  respect  for,_ajui  an 
implicsi±::.:::_faithin,  those  uniform  laws  which 
urtd^lie  all  thingsT  By  accumulated  experi- 
ences the  man  of  science  acquires  a  thorough  be- 
lief in  the  unchanging  relations  of  phenomena — 
in  the  invariable  connexion  of  cause  and  conse- 
quence— in  the  necessity  of  good  or  evil  results. 
Instead  of  the  rewards  and  punishments  of  tra- 
ditional belief,  which  men  vaguely  hope  they  may 


M<^-^ 


TRANSCE^^DENT  VALUE  OF  SCIENCE.  83 

gain,  or  escape,  spite  of  their  disobedience;  he  finds 
that  there  are  rewards  and  punishments  in  the  or- 
dained constitution  of  things,  and  that  J;he  evil 
results  of  disobedience  are  inevitable.  C^e  sees 
that  the  laws  to  which  we  must  submit  are  not  only- 
inexorable  but  beneficent^  He  sees  that  in  virtue  ^4^1^/. 
of  these  Jaws,  the  process  o£  things  is  ever  toward&-a  4^^^^  ^'''^ 
greater^  perfection_and_  a  higher  happiness.  Hence 
he  is  led  constantly  to  insist  on  these  laws,  and  is  in- 
dignant when  men  disregard  them.  And  thus  docs 
he,  by  asserting  the  eternal  principles  of  things  and 
the  necessity  of  conforming  to  them,  prove  himself 
intrinsically  religious. 

To  all  which  add  the  further  religious  aspect  of 
science,  that  it  alone  can  give  us  true  conceptions 
of  ourselves  and  our  relation  to  the  mysteries  of 
existea££t,  -At  the  same  time  that  it  shows  us  all 
which  can  be  known,  it  shows  us  the  limits  beyond 
which  we  can  know  nothing,  ^ot  by  dogmatic  as- 
sertion does  it  teach  the  impossibility  of  compre- 
hending the  ultimate  cause  of  things;  but  it  leads 
us  clearly  to  recognise  this  impossibility  by  bring- 
ing us  in  every  direction  to  boundaries  we  cannot 
cross.  It  realizes  to  us  in  a  way  w^hich  nothing 
else  can,  the  littleness  of  human  intelligence  in  the 
face  of  that  which  transcends  human  intelligence. 
AVhile  towards  the  traditions  and  authorities  of  men 


84     WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

its  attitude  may  be  proud,  before  the  impenetrable 
veil  which  hides  the  Absolute  its  attitude  is  humble 
— a  true  pride  and  a  true  humility.  /  Only  the  sin- 
cere man  of  science  (and  by  this  title  we  do  not 
mean  the  mere  calculator  of  distances,  or  analyser 
of  compounds,  or  labeller  of  species;  but  him  who 
through  lower  truths  seeks  higher,  and  eventually 
the  highest) — only  the  genuine  man  of  science,  we 
say,  can  truly  know  how  utterly  beyond,  not  only 
human  knowledge,  but  human  conception,  is  the 
Universal  Power  of  which  Nature,  and  Life,  and 
Thought  are  manifestations._J 

"VVe  conclude,  then,  that  for  discipline,  as  well 
as  for  ^uidance^  science  is  of  chiefest  value.  In 
all  its  effects,  learning  the  meanings  of  things,  is 
better  than  learning  the  meanings  of  words. 
Whether  for  intellectual,  moral,  or  religious  train- 
ing, the  study  of  siurrounding  phenomena  is  im- 
mensely superior  to  the  study  of  grammars  and 
lexicons. 

Thus  to  the  question  with  which  we  set  out — 
What  knowledge  is  of  most  worth? — the  uniform 
reply  is-^sies£ag^--^his  is  the  verdict  on  all  the 
counts.  For  direct  self-preservation,  or  the  main- 
tenance of  life  and  health,  the  all-important~knowl- 
edge  is — Science.     For  thilt  liidlrei^L  yelf-preserva- 


TRANSCENDENT  VALUE  OF  SCIENCE.  85 

tion  which  we  call  gaining  a  livelihood,  the  knowl- 
edge of  greatest  value  is — Science.  For  the  due 
discharge  of  parental  functions,  the  proper  guidance 
is  to  be  found  only  in — Science.  For  that  inter- 
pretation of  national  life,  past  and  present,  with- 
out which  the  citizen  cannot  rightly  regulate  his 
conduct,  the  indispensable  key  is — Science.  Alike 
for  the  most  perfect  production  and  highest  enjoy- 
ment of  art  in  all  its  forms,  the  needful  preparation 
is  still — Science.  And  for  purposes  of  disci- 
pline— intellectual,  moral,  religious — the  most  effi- 
cient study  is,  once  more — Science.  The  question 
which  at  first  seemed  so  perplexed,  has  become,  in 
the  course  of  our  inquiry,  comparatively  simple. 
We  have  not  to  estimate  the  degrees  of  importance 
of  different  orders  of  human  activity,  and  different  • 
studies  as  severally  fitting  us  for  them;  since  we 
find  that  the  study  of  Science,  in  its  most  compre-  "^ 
hensive  meaning,  is  the  best  preparation  for  all 
these  orders  of  activity.  We  have  not  to  decide 
between  the  claims  of  knowledge  of  great  though 
conventional  value,  and  knowledge  of  less  though 
intrinsic  value;  seeing  that  the  knowledge  which 
we  find  to  be  of  most  value  in  all  other  respects, 
is  intrinsically  most  valuable:  its  worth  is  not  de- 
pendent upon  opinion,  but  is  as  fixed  as  is  the  re- 
lation of  man  to  the  surrounding  world.     Neces- 


^^ 


86      WHAT  KNOWLEDGE  IS  OF  MOST  WORTH? 

sary  and  eternal  as  are  its  truths,  all  Science 
concerns  alL  mankind  for  all  time.  Equally  at 
present,  and  in  the  remotest  future,  must  it  be  of  in- 
calculable importance  for  the  regulation  of  their 
conduct,  that  men  should  understantl  the  science  of 
life,  physical,  mental,  and  social;  and  that  they 
should  understand  all  other  science  as  a  key  to  the 
science  of  life^ 

And  yet  the  knowledge  which  is  of  such  tran- 
scendent value  is  that  which,  in  our  age  of  boasted 
education,  receives  the  least  attention.  While  this 
which  we  call  civilization  could  never  have  arisen 
had  it  not  been  for  science;  science  forms  scarcely 
an  appreciable  element  in  what  men  consider  civi- 
lized training.  Though  to  the  progress  of  science 
we  owe  it,  that  millions  find  support  where  once 
there  was  food  only  for  thousands ;  yet  of  these  mil- 
lions but  a  few  thousands  pay  any  respect  to  that 
which  has  made  their  existence  possible.  Though 
this  increasing  knowledge  of  the  properties  and  re- 
lations of  things  has  not  only  enabled  wandering 
tribes  to  grow  into  populous  nations,  but  has  given 
to  the  countless  members  of  those  populous  na- 
tions comforts  and  pleasures  which  their  few  naked 
ancestors  never  even  conceived,  or  could  have 
believed,  yet  is  this  kind  of  knowledge  only  now 
receiving  a  grudging  recognition  in  our  highest  edu- 


STRANGE  NEGLECT  OF  SCIENCE.  87 

cational  institutions.  To  the  slowly  growing  ac- 
quaintance with  the  uniform  co-existences  and  se- 
quences of  phenomena — to  the  establishment  of  in- 
variable laws,  we  owe  our  emancipation  from  the 
grossest  superstitions.  But  for  science  we  should 
be  still  worshipping  fetishes;  or,  with  hecatombs  of 
victims,  propitiating  diabolical  deities.  And  yet 
this  science,  which,  in  place  of  the  most  degrading 
conceptions  of  things,  has  given  us  some  insight 
into  the  grandeurs  of  creation,  is  written  against  in 
our  theologies  and  frowned  upon  from  our  pulpits. 

f  Paraphrasing  an  Eastern  fable,  we  may  say  that 
in  the  family  of  knowledges,  Science  is  the  house- 
hold drudge,  who,  in  obscurity,  hides  unrecognised 
perfections^  To  her  has  been  committed  all  the 
work;  by  her  skill,  intelligence,  and  devotion,  have 
all  the  conveniences  and  gratifications  been  ob- 
tained; and  while  ceaselessly  occupied  ministering 
to  the  rest,  she  has  been  kept  in  the  background, 
that  her  haughty  sisters  might  flaunt  their  frip- 
peries in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  The  parallel  holds 
yet  further.  |  For  we  are  fast  coming  to  the  denoue- 
ment, when  the  positions  will  be  changed ;  and 
while  these  haughty  sisters  sink  into  merited  neg- 
lect. Science,  proclaimed  as  highest  alike  in  worth 
and  beauty,  will  reign  supreme.    ] 


CHAPTER   IL 

INTELLECTUAL    EDUCATIOlSr. 

There  cannot  fail  to  be  a  relationship  between 
the  successive  systems  of  education,  and  the  succes- 
sive social  states  with  which  they  have  co-existed. 
Having  a  common  origin  in  the  national  mind,  the 
institutions  of  each  epoch,  whatever  be  their  special 
functions,  must  have  a  family  likeness.  When 
men  received  their  creed  and  its  interpretations 
from  an  infallible  authority  deigning  no  explana- 
tions, it  was  natural  that  the  teaching  of  children 
should  be  purely  dogmatic.  While  "  believe  and 
ask  no  questions  "  was  the  maxim  of  the  Church, 
it  was  fitly  the  maxim  of  the  school.  Conversely, 
now  that  Protestantism  has  gained  for  adults  a 
right  of  private  judgment  and  established  the  prac- 
tice of  appealing  to  reason,  there  is  harmony  in  the 
change  that  has  made  juvenile  instruction  a  process 
of  exposition  addressed  to  the  understanding. 
Along  with  political  despotism,  stern  in  its  com- 
mands, ruling  by  force  of  terror,  visiting  trifling 


AN  ORDER  OF  MENTAL  EVOLUTION.    89 

crimes  with  death,  and  implacable  in  its  vengeance 
on  the  disloyal,  there  necessarily  grew  up  an  aca- 
demic discipline  similarly  harsh — a  discipline  of 
multiplied  injunctions  and  blows  for  every  breach 
of  them — a  discipline  of  unlimited  autocracy  up- 
held by  rods,  and  ferules,  and  the  black-hole.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  increase  of  political  liberty,  the 
abolition  of  law  restricting  individual  action,  and 
the  amelioration  of  the  criminal  code,  have  been 
accompanied  by  a  kindred  progress  towards  non- 
coercive education:  the  pupil  is  hampered  by  fewer 
restraints,  and  other  means  than  punishments  are 
used  to  govern  him.  In  those  ascetic  days  when 
men,  acting  on  the  greatest  misery  principle,  held 
that  the  more  gratifications  they  denied  themselves 
the  more  virtuous  they  were,  they,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  considered  that  the  best  education  which 
most  thwarted  the  wishes  of  their  children,  and  cut 
short  all  spontaneous  activity  with — "  You  mustn't 
do  so."  While  on  the  contrary,  now  that  happi- 
ness is  coming  to  be  regarded  as  a  legitimate  aim — ■ 
now  that  hours  of  labour  are  being  shortened  and 
popular  recreations  provided,  parents  and  teachers 
are  beginning  to  see  that  most  childish  desires  may 
rightly  be  gratified,  that  childish  sports  should  be 
encouraged,  and  that  the  tendencies  of  the  growing 

mind  are  not  altogether  so  diabolical  as  was  sup- 
13 


90  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

posed.  The  age  in  wMch.  all  thought  that  trades 
must  be  established  by  bounties  and  prohibitions; 
that  manufacturers  needed  their  materials  and 
qualities  and  prices  to  be  prescribed;  and  that  the 
value  of  money  could  be  determined  by  law;  was 
an  age  which  unavoidably  cherished  the  notions 
that  a  child's  mind  could  be  made  to  order ;  that  its 
powers  were  to  be  imparted  by  the  schoolmaster; 
that  it  was  a  receptacle  into  which  knowledge  was 
to  be  put  and  there  built  up  after  its  teacher's  ideal. 
In  this  free-trade  era,  however,  when  we  are  learn- 
ing that  there  is  much  more  self-regulation  in 
things  than  was  supposed;  that  labour,  and  com- 
merce, and  agriculture,  and  navigation  can  do  bet- 
ter without  management  than  with  it;  that  politi- 
cal governments,  to  be  efficient,  must  grow  up  from 
within  and  not  be  imposed  from  without;  we  are 
also  beginning  to  see  that  there  is  a  natural  process 
of  mental  evolution  which  is  not  to  be  disturbed 
without  injury;  that  we  may  not  force  on  the  un- 
folding mind  our  artificial  forms;  but  that  Psy- 
chology, also,  discloses  to  us  a  law  of  supply  and 
demand,  to  which,  if  we  would  not  do  harm,  we 
must  conform.  Thus  alike  in  its  oracular  dogma- 
tism, in  its  harsh  discipline,  in  its  multiplied  restric- 
tions, in  its  professed  asceticism,  and  in  its  faith  in 
the  devices  of  men,  the  old  educational  regime  was 


THE  TRANSITION  STAGE  OF  INQUIRY.        91 

akin  to  the  social  systems  with  which  it  was  con- 
temporaneous; and  similarly,  in  the  reverse  of 
these  characteristics  our  modern  modes  of  culture 
correspond  to  our  more  liberal  religious  and  political 
institutions. 

But  there  remain  further  parallelisms  to  w^hich 
we  have  not  yet  adverted:  that,  namely,  between 
the  processes  by  which  these  respective  changes 
have  been  wrought  out;  and  that  between  the  sev- 
eral states  of  heterogeneous  opinion  to  which  they 
have  led.  Some  centuries  ago  there  was  uniformity 
of  belief — religious,  political,  and  educational. 
All  men  were  Romanists,  all  were  Monarchists,  all 
were  disciples  of  Aristotle,  and  no  one  thought  of 
calling  in  question  that  grammar-school  routine 
under  which  all  were  brought  up.  The  same 
agency  has  in  each  case  replaced  this  uniformity  by 
a  constantly  increasing  diversity.  That  tendency 
towards  assertion  of  the  individuality,  which,  after 
contributing  to  produce  the  great  Protestant  move- 
ment, has  gone  on  to  produce  an  ever-increasing 
number  of  sects — that  tendency  which  initiated  po- 
litical parties,  and  out  of  the  two  primary  ones  has, 
in  these  modern  days,  evolved  a  multiplicity  to 
which  every  year  adds — that  tendency  which  led 
to  the  Baconian  rebellion  against  the  schools,  and 
has  since  originated  here  and  abroad  sundry  new 


92  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

systems  of  thought — is  a  tendency  wliicli,  in  educa- 
tion also,  has  caused  division  and  the  accumulation 
of  methods.  As  external  consequences  of  the 
same  internal  change,  these  processes  have  neces- 
sarily been  more  or  less  simultaneous.  The  decline 
of  authority,  whether  papal,  philosophic,  kingly,  or 
tutorial,  is  essentially  one  phenomenon;  in  each  of 
its  aspects  a  leaning  towards  free  action  is  seen  alike 
in  the  working  out  of  the  change  itself,  and  in  the 
new  forms  of  theory  and  practice  to  which  the 
change  has  given  birth. 

While  many  will  regret  this  multiplication  of 
schemes  of  juvenile  culture,  the  catholic  observer 
will  discern  in  it  a  means  of  ensuring  the  final  es- 
tablishment of  a  rational  system.  Whatever  may 
be  thought  of  theological  dissent,  it  is  clear  that 
dissent  in  education  results  in  facilitating  inquiry 
by  the  division  in  labour.  Were  we  in  possession 
of  the  true  method,  divergence  from  it  would,  of 
course,  be  prejudicial;  but  the  true  method  hav- 
ing to  be  found,  the  efforts  of  numerous  indepen- 
dent seekers  carrying  out  their  researches  in  dif- 
ferent directions,  constitute  a  better  agency  for  find- 
ing it  than  any  that  could  be  devised.  Each  of 
them  struck  by  some  new  thought  which  probably 
contains  more  or  less  of  basis  in  facts — each  of  them 
zealous  on  behalf  of  his  plan,  fertile  in  expedients 


CULTURE  OP  THE  WHOLE  BEING.  93 

to  test  its  correctness,  and  untiring  in  his  efforts -to 
make  known  its  success — each  of  them  merciless  in 
his  criticism  on  the  rest — there  cannot  fail,  by  com- 
position of  forces,  to  be  a  gradual  approximation  of 
all  towards  the  right  course.  Whatever  portion 
of  the  normal  method  any  one  of  them  has  dis- 
covered, must,  by  the  constant  exhibition  of  its  re- 
sults, force  itself  into  adoption;  whatever  wrong 
practices  he  has  joined  with  it  must,  by  repeated  ex- 
jDeriment  and  failure,  be  exploded.  And  by  this 
aggregation  of  truths  and  elimination  of  errors, 
there  must  eventually  be  developed  a  correct  and 
complete  body  of  doctrine.  Of  the  three  phases 
through  which  human  opinion  passes — the  una- 
nimity of  the  ignorant,  the  disagreement  of  the 
inquiring,  and  the  unanimity  of  the  wise — it  is 
manifest  that  the  second  is  the  parent  of  the  third. 
They  are  not  sequences  in  time  only;  they  are  se- 
quences in  causation.  However  impatiently,  there- 
fore, w^e  may  witness  the  present  conflict  of  educa- 
tional systems,  and  however  much  we  may  regret 
its  accompanying  evils,  we  must  recognise  it  as  a 
transition  state  needful  to  be  passed  through,  and 
beneficent  in  its  ultimate  effects. 

Meanwhile  may  we  not  advantageously  take 
stock  of  our  progress?  After  fifty  years  of  discus- 
sion, experiment,  and  comparison  of  results,  may 


94:  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

we  not  expect  a  few  steps  towards  the  goal  to  be 
already  made  good?  Some  old  methods  must  by 
this  time  have  fallen  out  of  use;  some  new  ones 
must  have  become  established;  and  many  others 
must  be  in  process  of  general  abandonment  or 
adoption.  Probably  we  may  see  in  these  various 
changes,  when  put  side  by  side,  similar  characteris- 
tics— may  find  in  them  a  common  tendency;  and 
so,  by  inference,  may  get  a  clue  to  the  direction  in 
which  experience  is  leading  us,  and  gather  hints 
how  we  may  achieve  yet  further  improvements. 
Let  us  then,  as  a  preliminary  to  a  deeper  considera- 
tion of  the  matter,  glance  at  the  leading  contrasts 
between  the  education  of  the  past  and  of  the 
present. 

The  suppression  of  every  error  is  commonly 
followed  by  a  temporary  ascendency  of  the  con- 
trary one;  and  it  so  happened,  that  after  the  ages 
when  physical  development  alone  was  aimed  at, 
there  came  an  age  when  culture  of  the  mind  was 
the  sole  solicitude — when  children  had  lesson-books 
put  before  them  at  between  two  and  three  years  old 
— when  school-hours  were  protracted,  and  the  get- 
ting of  knowledge  was  thought  the  one  thing  need- 
ful. As,  further,  it  usually  happens,  that  after 
one  of  these  reactions  the  next  advance  is  achieved 
by  co-ordinating  the   antagonist  errors,   and  per- 


CULTURE  OF  THE  WHOLE  BEING.  95 

ceiving  that  they  are  opposite  sides  of  one  truth ;  so 
we  are  now  coming  to  the  conviction  that  body  and 
mind  must  both  be  cared  for,  and  the  whole  being 
unfolded.  The  forcing  system  has  been  in  great 
measure  given  up,  and  precocity  is  discouraged. 
People  are  beginning  to  see  that  the  first  requisite 
to  success  in  life,  is  to  be  a  good  animal.  The  best 
brain  is  found  of  little  service,  if  there  be  not 
enough  vital  energy  to  work  it;  and  hence  to  ob- 
tain the  one  by  sacrificing  the  source  of  the  other, 
is  now  considered  a  folly — a  folly  which  the  event- 
ual failure  of  juvenile  prodigies  constantly  illus- 
trates. Thus  we  are  discovering  the  wisdom  of  the 
saying,  that  one  secret  in  education  is  "to  know 
how  wisely  to  lose  time." 

The  once  universal  practice  of  learning  by  rote, 
is  daily  falling  more  into  discredit.  All  modern 
authorities  condemn  the  old  mechanical  way  of 
teaching  the  alphabet.  The  multiplication  table  is 
now  frequently  taught  experimentally.  In  the  ac- 
quirement of  languages,  the  gTammar-school  plan 
is  being  superseded  by  plans  based  on  the  spontane- 
ous process  followed  by  the  child  in  gaining  its 
mother  tongue.  Describing  the  methods  there 
used,  the  "  Reports  on  the  Training  School  at  Bat- 
tersea  "  say: — "The  instruction  in  the  whole  pre- 
paratory course  is  chiefly  oral,  and  is  illustrated  as 


96  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

much  as  possible  bj  appeals  to  nature."  And  so 
throughout.  The  rote-system,  like  other  systems 
of  its  age,  made  more  of  the  forms  and  symbols 
than  of  the  things  symbolized.  To  repeat  the 
words  correctly  was  everything;  to  understand 
their  meaning  nothing:  and  thus  the  spirit  was 
sacrificed  to  the  letter.  It  is  at  length  perceived, 
that  in  this  case  as  in  others,  such  a  result  is  not 
accidental  but  necessary — that  in  proportion  as 
there  is  attention  to  the  signs,  there  must  be  inat- 
tention to  the  things  signified;  or  that,  as  Mon- 
taigne long  ago  said — Sgavoir  par  cceur  n'est 
pas  sgavoir. 

Along  with  rote-teaching,  is  declining  also  the 
nearly  allied  teaching  by  rules.  The  particulars 
first,  and  then  the  generalization,  is  the  new  method 
— a  method,  as  the  Battersea  School  Reports  re- 
mark, which,  though  "  the  reverse  of  the  method 
usually  followed  which  consists  in  giving  the  pupil 
the  rule  first,"  is  yet  proved  by  experience  to  be 
the  right  one.  Rule-teaching  is  now  condemned 
as  imparting  a  merely  empirical  knowledge — as 
producing  an  appearance  of  understanding  without 
the  reality.  To  give  the  net  product  of  inquiry, 
without  the  inquiry  that  leads  to  it,  is  found  to  be 
both  enervating  and  inefficient.  General  truths  to 
be  of  due  and  permanent  use,  must  be  earned. 


MISCHIEFS  OF  RULE-TEACHING.  97 

"  Easy  come  easy  go/'  is  a  saying  as  applicable  to 
knowledge  as  to  wealth.  While  rules,  lying  iso- 
lated in  the  mind — not  joined  to  its  other  contents 
as  outgrowths  from  them — are  continually  forgot- 
ten, the  principles  which  those  rules  express  piece- 
meal, become,  when  once  reached  by  the  under- 
standing, enduring  possessions.  While  the  rule- 
taught  youth  is  at  sea  when  beyond  his  rules,  the 
youth  instructed  in  principles  solves  a  new  case  as 
readily  as  an  old  one.  Between  a  mind  of  rules 
and  a  mind  of  principles,  there  exists  a  difference 
such  as  that  between  a  confused  heap  of  materials, 
and  the  same  materials  organized  into  a  complete 
whole,  with  all  its  parts  bound  together.  Of  which 
types  this  last  has  not  only  the  advantage  that  its 
constituent  parts  are  better  retained,  but  the  much 
greater  advantage,  that  it  forms  an  efficient  agent 
for  inquiry,  for  independent  thought,  for  discovery 
— ends  for  which  the  first  is  useless.  Nor  let  it 
be  supposed  that  this  is  a  simile  only :  it  is  the  literal 
truth.  The  union  of  facts  into  generalizations  is 
the  organization  of  knowledge,  whether  considered 
as  an  objective  phenomenon,  or  a  subjective  one: 
and  the  mental  grasp  may  be  measured  by  the  ex- 
tent to  which  this  organization  is  carried. 

From  the  substitution  of  principles  for  rules, 
and  the  necessarily  co-ordinate  practice  of  leaving 


98  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

abstraction  untaught  until  the  mind  has  been  famil- 
iarized with  the  facts  from  which  thej  are  ab- 
stracted, has  resulted  the  postponement  of  some 
once  early  studies  to  a  late  period.  This  is  exem- 
plified in  the  abandonment  of  that  intensely  stupid 
custom,  the  teaching  of  grammar  to  children.  As 
M,  Marcel  says: — "It  may  without  hesitation  be 
affirmed  that  grammar  is  not  the  stepping-stone,  but 
the  finishing  instrument."  As  Mr.  Wyse  argues: 
— "  Grammar  and  Syntax  are  a  collection  of  laws 
and  rules.  Rules  are  gathered  from  practice;  they 
are  the  results  of  induction  to  which  we  come  by 
long  observation  and  comparison  of  facts.  It  is,  in 
fine,  the  science,  the  philosophy  of  language.  In 
following  the  process  of  nature,  neither  individuals 
nor  nations  ever  arrive  at  the  science  first.  A  lan- 
guage is  spoken,  and  poetry  written,  many  years  be- 
fore either  a  grammar  or  prosody  is  even  thought 
of.  Men  did  not  wait  till  Aristotle  had  construct- 
ed his  logic,  to  reason.  In  short,  as  grammar  was 
made  after  language,  so  ought  it  to  be  taught  after 
language:  an  inference  which  all  who  recognise 
the  relationship  between  the  evolution  of  the  race 
and  of  the  individual,  will  see  to  be  unavoidable. 

Of  new  practices  that  have  grown  up  during  the 
decline  of  these  old  ones,  the  most  important  is  the 
systematic  culture  of  the  powers  of  observation. 


TRAINING  THE  POWERS  OP  OBSERVATION.    99 

After  long  ages  of  blindness  men  are  at  last  seeing 
that  the  spontaneous  activity  of  the  observing  fac- 
ulties in  children  has  a  meaning  and  a  use.  What 
was  once  thought  mere  purposeless  action,  or  play, 
or  mischief,  as  the  case  might  be,  is  now  recog- 
nised as  the  process  of  acquiring  a  knowledge  on 
which  all  after-knowledge  is  based.  Hence  the 
well-conceived  but  ill-conducted  system  of  object- 
lessons.  The  saying  of  Bacon,  that  physics  is  the 
mother  of  sciences,  has  come  to  have  a  meaning  in 
education.  Without  an  accurate  acquaintance 
with  the  visible  and  tangible  properties  of  things, 
our  conceptions  must  be  erroneous,  our  inferences 
fallacious,  and  our  operations  unsuccessful.  "  The 
education  of  the  senses  neglected,  all  after  educa- 
tion partakes  of  a  drowsiness,  a  haziness,  an  insuffi- 
ciency which  it  is  impossible  to  cure."  Indeed,  if 
we  consider  it,  we  shall  find  that  exhaustive  obser- 
vation is  an  element  in  all  great  success.  It  is  not 
to  artists,  naturalists,  and  men  of  science  only,  that 
it  is  needful;  it  is  not  only  that  the  skilful 
physician  depends  on  it  for  the  correctness  of  his 
diagnosis,  and  that  to  the  good  engineer  it  is  so  im- 
portant that  some  years  in  the  workshop  are  pre- 
scribed for  him;  but  we  may  see  that  the  philoso- 
pher also  is  fundamentally  one  who  observes  rela- 
tionships of  things  which  others  had  overlooked. 


100  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

and  that  tlie  poet,  too,  is  one  who  sees  the  fine  facts 
in  nature  which  all  recognise  when  pointed  out,  but 
did  not  before  remark.  Js^othiug  requires  more  to 
be  insisted  on  than  that  vivid  and  complete  impres- 
sions are  all  essential.  'No  sound  fabric  of  wisdom 
can  be  woven  out  of  a  rotten  raw-material. 

While  the  old  method  of  presenting  truths  in 
the  abstract  has  been  falling  out  of  use,  there  has 
been  a  corresponding  adoption  of  the  new  method 
of  presenting  them  in  the  concrete.  The  rudimen- 
tary facts  of  exact  science  are  now  being  learnt  by 
direct  intuition,  as  textures,  and  tastes,  and  colours 
are  learnt.  Employing  the  ball-frame  for  the  first 
lesson  in  arithmetic  exemplifies  this.  It  is  well  il- 
lustrated, too,  in  Professor  De  Morgan's  mode  of 
explaining  the  decimal  notation.  M.  Marcel, 
rightly  repudiating  the  old  system  of  tables,  teaches 
weights  and  measures  by  referring  to  the  actual  yard 
and  foot,  pound  and  ounce,  gallon  and  quart;  and 
lets  the  discovery  of  their  relationships  be  experi- 
mental. The  use  of  geographical  models  and  mod- 
els of  the  regular  bodies,  &c.,  as  introductory  to 
geography  and  geometry  respectively,  are  facts  of 
the  same  class.  Manifestly  a  common  trait  of  these 
methods  is,  that  they  carry  each  child's  mind 
through  a  process  like  that  which  the  mind  of  hu- 
manity at  large  has  gone  through.     The  truths  of 


THE  NATURAL  METHOD  PLEASURABLE.  101 

number,  of  form,  of  relationship  in  position,  were 
all  originally  drawn  from  objects;  and  to  present 
these  truths  to  the  child  in  the  concrete  is  to  let  him 
learn  them  as  the  race  learnt  them.  By  and  by, 
perhaps,  it  will  be  seen  that  he  cannot  possibly  learn 
them  in  any  other  way ;  for  that  if  he  is  made  to  re- 
peat them  as  abstractions,  the  abstractions  can  have 
no  meaning  for  him,  until  he  finds  that  they  are 
simply  statements  of  what  he  intuitively  discerns. 

But  of  all  the  changes  taking  place,  the  most 
significant  is  the  growing  desire  to  make  the  ac- 
quirement of  knowledge  pleasurable  rather  than 
painful — a  desire  based  on  the  more  or  less  distinct 
perception  that  at  each  age  the  intellectual  action 
which  a  child  likes  is  a  healthful  one  for  it;  and 
conversely.  There  is  a  spreading  opinion  that  the 
rise  of  an  appetite  for  any  kind  of  knowledge  im- 
plies that  the  unfolding  mind  has  become  fit  to  as- 
similate it,  and  needs  it  for  the  purposes  of  growth; 
and  that  on  the  other  hand,  the  disgust  felt  towards 
any  kind  of  knowledge  is  a  sign  either  that  it  is 
prematurely  presented,  or  that  it  is  presented  in 
an  indigestible  form.  Hence  the  efforts  to  make 
early  education  amusing,  and  all  education  interest- 
ing. Hence  the  lectures  on  the  value  of  play. 
Hence  the  defence  of  nursery  rhymes,  and  fairy 
tales.     Daily  we  more  and  more  conform  our  plana 


102  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

to  juvenile  opinion.  Does  tlie  child  like  this  or 
that  kind  of  teaching?  does  he  take  to  it?  we  con- 
stantly ask.  "  His  natural  desire  of  variety  should 
be  indulged,"  says  M.  Marcel;  "  and  the  gratifica- 
tion of  his  curiosity  should  be  combined  with  his 
improvement."  "  Lessons,"  he  again  remarks, 
"  should  cease  before  the  child  evinces  symptoms  of 
weariness."  And  so  with  later  education.  Short 
breaks  during  school-hours,  excursions  into  the 
country,  amusing  lectures,  choral  songs — in  these 
and  many  like  traits,  the  change  may  be  discerned. 
Asceticism  is  disappearing  out  of  education  as  out 
of  life;  and  the  usual  test  of  political  legislation — 
its  tendency  to  promote  happiness — is  beginning  to 
be,  in  a  great  degree,  the  test  of  legislation  for  the 
school  and  the  nursery. 

What  now  is  the  common  characteristic  of  these 
several  changes?  Is  it  not  an  increasing  conform- 
ity to  the  methods  of  nature?  The  relinquishment 
of  early  forcing  against  which  nature  ever  rebels, 
and  the  leaving  of  the  first  years  for  exercise  of  the 
limbs  and  senses,  show  this.  The  superseding  of 
rote-learnt  lessons  by  lessons  orally  and  experiment- 
ally given,  like  those  of  the  field  and  play-ground, 
shows  this.  The  disuse  of  rule-teaching,  and  the 
adoption  of  teaching  by  principles — that  is,  the 
leaving  of  generalizations  until  there  are  particulars 


ORDER  OF  EVOLUTION  OP  THE  FACULTIES.  103 

to  base  them  on — show  this.  The  system  of  object- 
lessons  shows  this.  The  teaching  of  the  rudiments 
of  science  in  the  concrete  instead  of  the  abstract, 
shows  this.  And  above  all,  this  tendency  is  shown 
in  the  variously  directed  efforts  to  present  knowl- 
edge in  attractive  forms,  and  so  to  make  the  ac- 
quirement of  it  pleasurable.  For  as  it  is  the  order 
of  nature  in  all  creatures  that  the  gratification  ac- 
comjianying  the  fulfilment  of  needful  functions 
serves  as  a  stimulus  to  their  fulfilment — as  during 
the  self-education  of  the  young  child,  the  delight 
taken  in  the  biting  of  corals,  and  the  pulling  to 
pieces  of  toys,  becomes  the  prompter  to  actions 
which  teach  it  the  properties  of  matter;  it  follows 
that,  in  choosing  the  succession  of  subjects  and  the 
modes  of  instruction  which  most  interest  the  pupil, 
we  are  fulfilling  nature's  behests,  and  adjusting  our 
proceedings  to  the  laws  of  life. 

Thus,  then,  we  are  on  the  highway  towards  the 
doctrine  long  ago  enunciated  by  Pestalozzi,  that 
alike  in  its  order  and  its  methods,  education  must 
conform  to  the  natural  process  of  mental  evolution 
— that  there  is  a  certain  sequence  in  which  the 
faculties  spontaneously  develop,  and  a  certain  kind 
of  knowledge  which  each  requires  during  its  devel- 
opment; and  that  it  is  for  us  to  ascertain  this  se- 
quence, and  supply  this  knowledge.     All  the  im- 


104  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

provements  above  alluded  to  are  partial  applications 
of  this  general  principle.  A  nebulous  perception 
of  it  now  prevails  among  teachers;  and  it  is  daily 
more  insisted  on  in  educational  works.  "  The 
method  of  nature  is  the  archetype  of  all  methods," 
says  M.  Marcel.  "  The  vital  principle  in  the  pur- 
suit is  to  enable  the  pupil  rightly  to  instruct  him- 
self," writes  Mr.  Wyse.  The  more  science  familiar- 
izes us  with  the  constitution  of  things  the  more  do 
we  see  in  them  an  inherent  self-sufficingness.  A 
higher  knowledge  tends  continually  to  limit  our  in- 
terference with  the  processes  of  life.  As  in  medi- 
cine the  old  "  heroic  treatment "  has  given  place 
to  mild  treatment,  and  often  no  treatment  save  a 
normal  regimen — as  we  have  found  that  it  is  not 
needful  to  mould  the  bodies  of  babes  by  bandaging 
them  in  papoose  fashion  or  otherwise — as  in  gaols  it 
is  being  discovered  that  no  cunningly  devised  disci- 
pline of  ours  is  so  efficient  in  producing  reformation 
as  the  natural  discipline,  the  making  prisoners 
maintain  themselves  by  productive  labour;  so  in 
education  we  are  finding  that  success  is  to  be 
achieved  only  by  rendering  our  measures  subservi- 
ent to  that  spontaneous  unfolding  which  all  minds 
go  through  in  their  progress  to  maturity. 

Of  course,   this  fundamental  principle  of  tu- 
ition, and  the  arrangement  of  matter  and  method 


ORDER  OP  EVOLUTION  OP  THE  PACULTIES.  105 

must  correspond  with  the  order  of  evokition  and 
mode  of  activity  of  the  faculties — a  principle  so 
obviously  true,  that  once  stated  it  seems  almost  self- 
evident — has  never  been  wholly  disregarded. 
Teachers  have  unavoidably  made  their  school- 
courses  coincide  with  it  in  some  degree,  for  the 
simple  reason  that  education  is  possible  only  on  that 
condition.  Boys  were  never  taught  the  rule-of- 
three  until  after  they  had  learnt  addition.  They 
were  not  set  to  write  exercises  before  they  had  got 
into  their  copy-books.  Conic  sections  have  always 
been  preceded  by  Euclid.  Bvit  the  error  of  the  old 
methods  consists  in  this,  that  they  do  not  recognise 
in  detail  what  they  are  obliged  to  recognise  in 
the  general.  Yet  the  principle  applies  throughout. 
If  from  the  time  when  a  child  is  able  to  conceive 
two  things  as  related  in  position,  years  must  elapse 
before  it  can  form  a  true  concept  of  the  earth,  as  a 
sphere  made  up  of  land  and  sea,  covered  with  moun- 
tains, forests,  rivers,  and  cities,  revolving  on  its  axis, 
and  sweeping  round  the  sun — if  it  gets  from  the 
one  concept  to  the  other  by  degrees — if  the  inter- 
mediate concepts  which  it  forms  are  consecutively 
larger  and  more  complicated;  is  it  not  manifest 
that  there  is  a  general  succession  through  which 
only  it  can  pass;  that  each  larger  concept  is  made 

by  the  combination  of  smaller  ones,  and  presupposes 
15. 


106  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

them;  and  that  to  present  any  of  these  compound 
concepts  before  the  child  is  in  possession  of  its  con- 
stituent ones,  is  only  less  absurd  than  to  present  the 
final  concept  of  the  series  before  the  initial  one? 
In  the  mastering  of  every  subject  some  course  of  in- 
creasingly complex  ideas  has  to  be  gone  through. 
The  evolution  of  the  corresj)onding  faculties  con- 
sists in  the  assimilation  of  these;  which,  in  any  true 
sense,  is  impossible  without  they  are  jDut  into  the 
mind  in  the  normal  order.  And  when  this  order 
is  not  followed,  the  result  is,  that  they  are  received 
with  apathy  or  disgust ;  and  that  unless  the  pupil  is 
intelligent  enough  to  eventually  fill  up  the  gaps 
himself,  they  lie  in  his  memory  as  dead  facts,  capa- 
ble of  being  turned  to  little  or  no  use. 

"  But  why  trouble  ourselves  about  any  cur- 
riculum at  all?  "  it  may  be  asked.  "  If  it  be  true 
that  the  mind  like  the  body  has  a  predetermined 
course  of  evolution — if  it  unfolds  spontaneously — 
if  its  successive  desires  for  this  or  that  kind  of  infor- 
mation arise  when  these  are  severally  required  for 
its  nutrition — if  there  thus  exists  in  itself  a  promp- 
ter to  the  right  species  of  activity  at  the  right  time; 
why  interfere  in  any  way?  Why  not  leave  chil- 
dren wholly  to  the  discipline  of  nature? — why  not 
remain  quite  passive  and  let  them  get  knowledge  as 
they  best  can? — why  not  be  consistent  through- 


GUIDANCE  NOT  TO  BE  DISPENSED  WITH.    107 

out? "  This  is  an  awkward  looking  question. 
Plausibly  implying  as  it  does,  that  a  system  of  com- 
plete laissez-faire  is  the  logical  outcome  of  the  doc- 
trines set  forth,  it  seems  to  furnish  a  disproof  of 
them  by  redudio  ad  dbsurdum.  In  truth,  how- 
ever, they  do  not,  when  rightly  understood,  commit 
us  to  any  such  untenable  position.  A  glance  at 
the  physical  analogies  will  clearly  show  this.  It  is 
a  general  law  of  all  life  that  the  more  complex  the 
organism  to  be  produced,  the  longer  the  period 
during  which  it  is  dependent  on  a  parent  organism 
for  food  and  protection.  The  contrast  between  the 
minute,  rapidly-formed,  and  self-moving  spore  of  a 
conferva,  and  the  slowly  developed  seed  of  a  tree, 
with  its  multiplied  envelopes  and  large  stock  of 
nutriment  laid  by  to  nourish  the  germ  during  its 
first  stages  of  growth,  illustrates  this  law  in  its  ap- 
plication to  the  vegetable  world.  Among  animal 
organisms  we  may  trace  it  in  a  series  of  contrasts 
from  the  monad  whose  spontaneously-divided  halves 
are  as  self-sufficing  the  moment  after  their  sepa- 
ration as  was  the  original  whole ;  up  to  man,  whose 
offspring  not  only  passes  through  a  protracted  ges- 
tation, and  subsequently  long  depends  on  the  breast 
for  sustenance;  but  after  that  must  have  its  food 
artificially  administered;  must,  after  it  has  learned 
to  feed  itself,  continue  to  have  bread,  clothing,  and 


108  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

shelter  provided ;  and  does  not  acquire  the  power  of 
complete  self-support  until  a  time  varying  from  fif- 
teen to  twenty  years  after  its  birth.  Now  this  law 
applies  to  the  mind  as  to  the  body.  Tor  mental 
pabulum  also,  every  higher  creature,  and  especially 
man,  is  at  first  dependent  on  adult  aid.  Lacking 
the  ability  to  move  about,  the  babe  is  as  powerless  to 
get  materials  on  which  to  exercise  its  perceptions  as 
it  is  to  get  supplies  for  its  stomach.  Unable  to  pre- 
pare its  own  food,  it  is  in  like  manner  unable  to 
reduce  many  kinds  of  knowledge  to  a  fit  form  for 
assimilation.  The  language  through  which  all 
higher  truths  are  to  be  gained  it  wholly  derives 
from  those  surrounding  it.  And  we  see  in  such  an 
example  as  the  Wild  Boy  of  Aveyron,  the  arrest  of 
development  that  results  when  no  help  is  received 
from  parents  and  nurses.  Thus,  in  providing  from 
day  to  day  the  right  kind  of  facts,  prepared  in  the 
right  manner,  and  giving  them  in  due  abundance 
at  appropriate  intervals,  there  is  as  much  scope  for 
active  ministration  to  a  child's  mind  as  to  its 
body.  In  either  case  it  is  the  chief  function  of  par- 
ents to  see  that  the  conditions  requisite  to  growth 
are  maintained.  And,  as  in  supplying  aliment, 
and  clothing,  and  shelter,  they  may  fulfil  this  func- 
tion without  at  all  interfering  with  the  spontaneous 
development  of  the  limbs  and  viscera  either  in  their 


PROVISION  OP  MENTAL  NUTRIMENT.       109 

order  or  mode;  so  they  may  supply  sounds  for  imi- 
tation, objects  for  examination,  books  for  reading, 
problems  for  solution,  and,  if  they  use  neither  di- 
rect nor  indirect  coercion,  may  do  this  without  in 
any  way  disturbing  the  normal  process  of  mental 
evolution;  or  rather,  may  greatly  facilitate  that 
process.  Hence  the  admission  of  the  doctrines 
enunciated  does  not,  as  some  might  argue,  involve 
the  abandonment  of  all  teaching;  but  leaves  am- 
ple room  for  an  active  and  elaborate  course  of 
culture. 

Passing  from  generalities  to  special  considera- 
tions it  is  to  be  remarked  that  in  practice,  the  Pes- 
talozzian  system  seems  scarcely  to  have  fulfilled  the 
promise  of  its  theory.  We  hear  of  children  not  at 
all  interested  in  its  lessons — disgusted  with  them 
rather;  and,  so  far  as  we  can  gather,  the  Pestaloz- 
zian  schools  have  not  turned  out  any  unusual  pro- 
j)()rtion  of  distinguished  men — if  even  they  have 
reached  the  average.  We  are  not  surprised  at  this. 
The  success  of  every  appliance  depends  mainly  upon  \ 
the  intelligence  with  which  it  is  used.  It  is  a  trite  / 
remark,  that,  having  the  choicest  tools,  an  unskilful 
artisan  will  botch  his  work;  and  bad  teachers  will 
fail  even  with  the  best  methods.  Indeed,  the  good- 
ness of  the  method  becomes  in  such  case  a  cause  of 


110  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

failure;  as,  to  continue  the  simile,  the  perfection  of 
the  tool  becomes  in  undisciplined  hands  a  source  of 
imperfection  in  results.  A  simple,  unchanging,  al- 
most mechanical  routine  of  tuition  may  be  carried 
out  by  the  commonest  intellects,  with  such  small 
beneficial  effect  as  it  is  capable  of  producing;  but 
a  complete  system, — a  system  as  heterogeneous  in 
its  appliances  as  the  mind  in  its  faculties, — a  system 
proposing  a  special  means  for  each  special  end,  de- 
mands for  its  right  employment  powers  such  as  few 
teachers  possess.  The  mistress  of  a  dame-school 
can  hear  spelling-lessons;  any  hedge-schoolmaster 
can  drill  boys  in  the  multiplication-table;  but  to 
teach  spelling  rightly  by  using  the  powers  of  the 
letters  instead  of  their  names,  or  to  instruct  in  nu- 
merical combinations  by  experimental  synthesis,  a 
modicum  of  understanding  is  needful:  and  to  pur- 
sue a  like  rational  course  throughout  the  entire 
range  of  studies,  asks  an  amount  of  judgment,  of  in- 
vention, of  intellectual  sympathy,  of  analytical  fac- 
ulty, which  we  shall  never  see  applied  to  it  while 
the  tutorial  office  is  held  in  such  small  esteem. 
The  true  education  is  practicable  only  to  the  true 
philosopher.  Judge,  then,  what  prospect  a  philo- 
sophical method  now  has  of  being  acted  out! 
Knowing  so  little  as  we  yet  do  of  Psychology,  and 
ignorant  as  our  teachers  are  of  that  little,  what 


PESTALOZZI'S  PRACTICE  DEFECTIVE.       m 

chance  has  a  system  which  requires  Psychology  for 
its  basis  ? 

Further  hindrance  and  discouragement  has 
arisen  from  confounding  the  Pestalozzian  principle 
with  the  forms  in  which  it  has  been  embodied.  Be- 
cause particular  plans  have  not  answered  expecta- 
tion, discredit  has  been  cast  upon  the  doctrine  asso- 
ciated with  them;  no  inquiry  being  made  whether 
these  plans  truly  conform  to  such  doctrine.  Judg- 
ing as  usual  by  the  concrete  rather  than  the  abstract, 
men  have  blamed  the  theory  for  the  bunglings  of 
the  practice.  It  is  as  though  Papin's  futile  attempt 
to  construct  a  steam-engine  had  been  held  to  prove 
that  steam  could  not  be  used  as  a  motive  power. 
Let  it  be  constantly  borne  in  mind  that  while  right 
in  his  fundamental  ideas  Pestalozzi  was  not  there- 
fore right  in  all  his  applications  of  them:  and  we 
believe  the  fact  to  be  that  he  was  often  wrong.  As 
described  even  by  his  admirers,  Pestalozzi  was  a 
man  of  partial  intuitions,  a  man  who  had  occasional 
flashes  of  insight,  rather  than  a  man  of  systematic 
thought.  His  first  great  success  at  Stantz  was 
achieved  when  he  had  no  books  or  appliances  of 
ordinary  teaching,  and  when  "  the  only  object  of 
his  attention  was  to  find  out  at  each  moment  what 
instruction  his  children  stood  peculiarly  in  need  of, 
and  what  was  the  best  manner  of  connecting  it  with 


112  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

the  knowledge  they  already  possessed."  Much  of' 
Ills  power  was  due,  not  to  calmly  reasoned-out  plans 
of  culture,  but  to  his  profound  sympathy,  which 
gave  him  an  instinctive  perception  of  childish  needs 
and  difficulties.  He  lacked  the  ability  logically  to 
co-ordinate  and  develop  the  truths  which  he  thus 
from  time  to  time  laid  hold  of;  and  had  in  great 
measure  to  leave  this  to  his  assistants,  Kruesi,  Tob- 
ler,  Buss,  Niederer,  and  Schmid.  The  result  is  that 
in  their  details  his  own  plans,  and  those  vicariously 
devised,  contain  numerous  crudities  and  inconsist- 
encies. His  nursery-method,  described  in  "  The 
Mother's  Manual,"  beginning  as  it  does  with  a  no- 
menclature of  the  different  parts  of  the  body,  and 
proceeding  next  to  specify  their  relative  positions, 
and  next  their  connexions,  may  be  proved  not  at  all 
in  accordance  with  the  initial  stages  of  mental  evo- 
lution. His  process  of  teaching  the  mother  tongue 
by  formal  exercises  in  the  meanings  of  words  and 
in  the  construction  of  sentences,  is  qviite  needless, 
and  must  entail  on  the  pupil  loss  of  time,  labour, 
and  happiness.  His  proposed  mode  of  teaching 
geography  is  utterly  unpestalozzian.  And  often 
where  his  plans  are  essentially  sound  they  are  either 
incomplete  or  vitiated  by  some  remnant  of  the  old 
regime.  While,  therefore,  we  would  defend  in  its 
entire  extent  the  general  doctrine  which  Pestalozzi 


TRUTH  OF  THE  PESTALOZZIAN  IDEA.      113 

inaugurated,  we  think  great  evil  likely  to  result 
from  an  uncritical  reception  of  his  specific  devices. 
That  tendency  which  mankind  constantly  exhibit 
to  canonize  the  forms  and  practices  along  with 
which  any  great  truth  has  been  bequeathed  to  them, 
— their  liability  to  prostrate  their  intellects  before 
the  prophet  and  swear  by  his  every  word, — their 
proneness  to  mistake  the  clothing  of  the  idea  for  the 
idea  itself;  renders  it  needful  to  insist  strongly 
upon  the  distinction  between  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple of  the  Pestalozzian  system,  and  the  set  of  ex- 
pedients devised  for  its  practice:  and  to  suggest 
that  while  the  one  may  be  considered  as  established, 
the  other  is  probably  nothing  but  an  adumbration 
of  the  normal  course.  Indeed,  on  looking  at  the 
state  of  our  knowledge  we  may  be  quite  sure  that 
this  is  the  case.  Before  our  educational  methods 
can  be  made  to  harmonize  in  character  and  arrange- 
ment with  the  faculties  in  their  mode  and  order  of 
unfolding,  it  is  first  needful  that  we  ascertain  with 
some  completeness  how  the  faculties  do  unfold.  At 
present  our  knowledge  of  the  matter  extends  only 
to  a  few  general  notions.  These  general  notions 
must  be  developed  in  detail, — must  be  transformed 
into  a  multitude  of  specific  propositions,  before  we 
can  be  said  to  possess  that  science  on  which  the  art 
of  education  must  be  based.     And  then  when  we 


114  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

have  definitely  made  out  in  what  succession,  and  in 
what  combinations  the  mental  powers  become  ac- 
tive, it  remains  to  choose  out  of  the  many  possible 
ways  of  exercising  each  of  them  that  which  best 
conforms  to  its  natural  mode  of  action.  Evidently, 
therefore,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  even  our  most 
advanced  modes  of  teaching  are  the  right  ones,  or 
nearly  the  right  ones. 

Bearing  in  mind  then  this  distinction  between 
the  principle  and  the  practice  of  Pestalozzi,  and  in- 
ferring from  the  grounds  assigned  that  the  last  must 
necessarily  be  very  defective,  the  reader  will  rate  at 
its  true  worth  the  dissatisfaction  with  the  system 
which  some  have  expressed;  and  will  see  that  the 
due  realization  of  the  Pestalozzian  idea  remains 
to  be  achieved.  Should  he  argue,  however,  from 
what  has  just  been  said  that  no  such  realization  is 
at  present  practicable,  and  that  all  effort  ought  to 
be  devoted  to  the  preliminary  inquiry;  we  reply, 
that  though  it  is  not  possible  for  a  scheme  of  cul- 
ture to  be  perfected  either  in  matter  or  form  until 
a  rational  Psychology  has  been  established,  it  is 
possible,  with  the  aid  of  certain  guiding  principles, 
to  make  empirical  approximations  towards  a  per- 
fect scheme.  To  prepare  the  way  for  further  re- 
search we  will  now  specify  these  principles.  Some 
of  them  have  already  been  more  or  less  distinctly 


ORDER  OF  MENTAL  PROCEDURE.  115 

implied  in  the  foregoing  pages;  but  it  will  be  well 
here  to  state  them  all  in  logical  order. 

1.  That  in  education  we  should  proceed  from 
the  simple  to  the  complex  is  a  truth  which  has 
always  been  to  some  extent  acted  upon;  not  pro- 
fessedly, indeed,  nor  by  any  means  consistently. 
The  mind  grows.  Like  all  things  that  grow  it  pro- 
gresses from  the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous; 
and  a  normal  training  system  being  an  objective 
counterpart  of  this  subjective  process,  must  exhibit 
the  like  progression.  Moreover,  regarding  it  from 
this  point  of  view,  we  may  see  that  this  formula 
has  much  wider  applications  than  at  first  appears. 
For  its  rationale  involves  not  only  that  we  should 
proceed  from  the  single  to  the  combined  in  the 
teaching  of  each  branch  of  knowledge;  but  that 
we  should  do  the  like  with  knowledge  as  a  whole. 
As  the  mind,  consisting  at  first  of  but  few  active 
faculties;  has  its  later-completed  faculties  succes- 
sively awakened,  and  ultimately  comes  to  have  all 
its  faculties  in  simultaneous  action;  it  follows  that 
our  teaching  should  begin  with  but  few  subjects  at 
once,  and  successively  adding  to  these,  should  final- 
ly carry  on  all  subjects  abreast — that  not  only  in 
its  details  should  education  proceed  from  the  simple 
to  the  complex,  but  in  its  ensemble  also. 


116  rS'TELLECTUAL  EDUCATION". 

2.  To  saj  tliat  our  lessons  ought  to  start  from 
the  concrete  and  end  in  the  abstract,  may  be  con- 
sidered as  in  part  a  repetition  of  the  foregoing. 
Nevertheless  it  is  a  maxim  that  needs  to  be  stated: 
if  with  no  other  \'iew,  then  with  the  view  of  shew- 
ing in  certain  cases  what  are  tnilv  the  simple  and 
the  complex.  For  unfortimately  there  has  been 
much  misunderstanding  on  this  point.  General 
formulas  which  men  have  devised  to  express  groups 
of  details,  and  which  have  severally  simplified  their 
conceptions  by  uniting  many  facts  into  one  fact, 
they  have  supposed  must  simplify  the  conceptions 
of  the  child  also;  quite  forgetting  that  a  generali- 
zation is  simple  only  in  comparison  with  the  whole 
mass  of  particular  truths  it  comprehends — that  it 
is  more  complex  than  any  one  of  these  truths  taken 
singly — that  only  after  many  of  these  single  truths 
have  been  acquired  does  the  generalization  ease  the 
memory  and  help  the  reason — and  that  to  the  child 
not  possessing  these  single  truths  it  is  necessarily  a 
mystery.  Thus  confounding  two  kinds  of  simplifi- 
cation, teachers  have  constantly  erred  by  setting 
out  with  "  first  principles  " :  a  proceeding  essen- 
tially, though  not  apparently,  at  variance  with  the 
primary  rule;  which  implies  that  the  mind  should 
be  introduced  to  principles  through  the  medium 
of  examples,  and  so  should  be  led  from  the  partic- 


MENTAL  GROWTH  OF  THE  RACE.  117 

ular  to  the  general — from  the  concrete  to  the  al> 
stract. 

3.  The  education  of  the  child  must  accord  both 
in  mode  and  arrangement  with  the  education  of 
mankind  as  considered  historically;  or  in  other 
words,  the  genesis  of  knowledge  in  the  individual 
must  follow  the  same  course  as  the  genesis  of  knowl- 
edge in  the  race.  To  M.  Comte  we  believe  society 
owes  the  enunciation  of  this  doctrine — a  doctrine 
which  we  may  accept  without  committing  ourselves 
to  his  theory  of  the  genesis  of  knowledge,  either  in. 
its  causes  or  its  order.  In  support  of  this  doctrine 
two  reasons  may  be  assigned,  either  of  them  suffi- 
cient to  establish  it.  One  is  deducible  from  the 
law  of  hereditary  transmission  as  considered  in  its 
wider  consequences.  For  if  it  be  true  that  men 
exliibit*likeness  to  ancestry  both  in  aspect  and  char- 
acter— if  it  ]je  true  that  certain  mental  manifesta- 
tions, as  insanity,  will  occur  in  successive  members 
of  the  same  family  at  the  same  age — if,  passing 
from  individual  cases  in  which  the  traits  of  many 
dead  ancestors  mixing  with  those  of  a  few  living 
ones  greatly  obscure  the  law,  we  turn  to  national 
types,  and  remark  how  the  contrasts  between  them 
are  persistent  from  age  to  age — if  we  remember 
that  these  respective  types  came  from  a  common 
stock,  and  that  hence  the  present  marked  differences 


118  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

between  them  must  have  arisen  from  .the  action  of 
modifying  circumstances  upon  successive  genera- 
tions who  severally  transmitted  the  accumulated 
effects  to  their  descendants — if  we  find  the  dill'er- 
ences  to  be  now  organic,  so  that  the  French  child 
grows  into  a  French  man  even  when  brought  up 
among  strangers — and  if  the  general  fact  thus  illus- 
trated is  true  of  the  whole  nature,  intellect  inclu- 
sive; then  it  follows  that  if  there  be  an  order  in 
which  the  human  race  has  mastered  its  various 
kinds  of  knowledge,  there  will  arise  in  every  child 
an  aptitude  to  acquire  these  kinds  of  knowledge  in 
the  same  order.  So  that  even  were  the  order  in- 
trinsically indifferent,  it  would  facilitate  education 
to  lead  the  individual  mind  through  the  steps  trav- 
ersed by  the  general  mind.  But  the  order  is  not 
intrinsically  indifferent;  and  hence  the*  funda- 
mental reason  why  education  should  be  a  repetition 
of  civilisation  in  little.  It  is  alike  provable  that 
the  historical  sequence  was,  in  its  main  outlines,  a 
necessary  one;  and  that  the  causes  which  deter- 
mined it  apply  to  the  child  as  to  the  race.  Xot  to 
specify  these  causes  in  detail,  it  will  suffice  here  to 
point  out  that  as  the  mind  of  humanity  placed  in 
the  midst  of  phenomena  and  striving  to  compre- 
hend them,  has,  after  endless  comparisons,  specula- 
tions, experiments,  and  theories,  reached  its  present 


MENTAL  GROWTH  OF  THE  RACE.  I19 

knowledge  of  each  subject  by  a  specific  route;  it 
may  rationally  be  inferred  that  the  relationship  be- 
tween mind  and  phenomena  is  such  as  to  prevent 
this  knowledge  from  being  reached  by  any  other 
route;  and  that  as  each  child's  mind  stands  in  this 
same  relationship  to  phenomena,  they  can  be  acces- 
sible to  it  only  through  the  same  route.  Hence  in 
deciding  upon  the  right  method  of  education,  an  in- 
quiry into  the  method  of  civilisation  will  help  to 
guide  us. 

4.  One  of  the  conclusions  to  which  such  an  in- 
quiry leads  is,  that  in  each  branch  of  instruction 
we  should  proceed  from  the  empirical  to  the  ration- 
al. A  leading  fact  in  human  progress  is,  that 
every  science  is  evolved  out  of  its  corresponding  art. 
It  results  from  the  necessity  we  are  under,  both  in- 
dividually and  as  a  race,  of  reaching  the  abstract 
by  way  of  the  concrete,  that  there  must  be  practice 
and  an  accruing  experience  with  its  empirical  gener- 
alizations, before  there  can  be  science.  Science  is 
organized  knowledge;  and  before  knowledge  can  be 
organized,  some  of  it  must  first  be  possessed.  Every 
study,  therefore,  should  have  a  purely  experimental 
introduction;  and  only  after  an  ample  fund  of 
observations  has  been  accumulated,  should  reason- 
ing begin.  As  illustrative  applications  of  this  rule, 
we  may  instance  the   modern   course   of  placing 


120  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

grammar,  not  before  language,  but  after  it;  or  the 
ordinary  custom  of  prefacing  perspective  by  prac- 
tical drawing.  By  and  by  further  applications  of 
it  will  be  indicated. 

5.  A  second  corollary  from  the  foregoing  gen- 
eral principle,  and  one  which  cannot  be  too  strenu- 
ously insisted  upon,  is,  that  in  education  the  process 
of  self-development  should  be  encouraged  to  the 
fullest  extent.  Children  should  be  led  to  make 
their  own  investigations,  and  to  draw  their  own  in- 
ferences. They  should  be  tohl  as  little  as  possible, 
and  induced  to  discover  as  much  as  possible.  Hu- 
manity has  progressed  solely  by  self-instruction; 
and  that  to  achieve  the  best  results,  each  mind  must 
progress  somewhat  after  the  same  fashion,  is  con- 
tinually proved  by  the  marked  success  of  self-made 
men.  Those  who  have  been  brought  up  under  the 
ordinary  school-drill,  and  have  carried  away  with 
them  the  idea  that  education  is  practicable  only  in 
that  style,  will  think  it  hopeless  to  make  children 
their  own  teachers.  If,  however,  they  will  call  to 
mind  that  the  all-important  knowledge  of  surround- 
ing objects  which  a  child  gets  in  its  early  years  is 
got  without  help — if  they  will  remember  that  the 
child  is  self-taught  in  the  use  of  its  mother  tongue 
— if  they  will  estimate  the  amount  of  that  experi- 
ence of  life,  that  out-of-school  wisdom,  which  every 


PROGEESS  BY  SELF-INSTRUCTION.  121 

boy  gathers  for  himself — if  they  will  mark  the 
unusual  intelligence  of  the  uncared-for  London 
gamin,  as  shewn  in  all  directions  in  which  his  facul- 
ties have  been  tasked — if  further,  they  will  think 
how  many  minds  have  struggled  up  unaided,  not 
only  through  the  mysteries  of  our  irrationally- 
jjlanned  curriculum,  but  through  hosts  of  other  ob- 
stacles besides;  they  will  find  it  a  not  unreasonable 
conclusion,  that  if  the  subjects  be  put  before  him  in 
right  order  and  right  form,  any  pupil  of  ordinary 
capacity  will  surmount  his  successive  difficulties 
with  but  little  assistance.  Who  indeed  can  watch 
the  ceaseless  observation,  and  inquiry,  and  infer- 
ence going  on  in  a  child's  mind,  or  listen  to  its 
acute  remarks  on  matters  within  the  range  of  its 
faculties,  without  perceiving  that  these  powers 
which  it  manifests,  if  brought  to  bear  systematic- 
ally upon  any  studies  within  the  same  range,  would 
readily  master  them  without  help?  This  need  for 
perpetual  telling  is  the  result  of  our  stupidity,  not 
of  the  child's.  We  drag  it  away  from  the  facts  in 
which  it  is  interested,  and  which  it  is  actively  as- 
similating of  itself;  we  put  before  it  facts  far  too 
complex  for  it  to  understand,  and  therefore  dis- 
tasteful to  it;  finding  that  it  will  not  voluntarily 
acquire  these  facts,  we  thrust  them  into  its  mind  by 

force  of  threats  and  punishment;  by  thus  denying 

17 


122  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

the  knowledge  it  craves,  and  cramming  it  with 
knowledge  it  cannot  digest,  we  produce  a  morbid 
state  of  its  faculties,  and  a  consequent  disgust  for 
knowledge  in  general;  and  when,  as  a  result  partly 
of  the  stolid  indolence  we  have  brought  on,  and 
partly  of  still  continued  unfitness  in  its  studies,  the 
child  can  understand  nothing  without  explanation, 
and  becomes  a  mere  passive  recipient  of  our  in- 
struction, we  infer  that  education  must  necessarily 
be  carried  on  thus.  Having  by  our  method  in- 
duced helplessness,  we  straightway  make  the  help- 
lessness a  reason  for  our  method.  Clearly  then  the 
experience  of  pedagogues  cannot  rationally  be 
quoted  against  the  doctrine  we  are  defending.  And 
whoever  sees  this  will  see  that  we  may  safely  follow 
the  method  of  nature  throughout — may,  by  a  skil- 
ful ministration,  make  the  mind  as  self-developing 
in  its  later  stages  as  it  is  in  its  earlier  ones;  and 
that  only  by  doing  this  can  we  produce  the  highest 
power  and  activity. 

6.  As  a  final  test  by  which  to  judge  any  plan  of 
culture,  should  come  the  question, — Does  it  create 
a  pleasurable  excitement  in  the  pupils?  "When  in 
doubt  whether  a  particular  mode  or  arrangement  is 
or  is  not  more  in  harmony  with  the  foregoing  princi- 
ples than  some  other,  we  may  safely  abide  by  this 
criterion.     Even  when,  as  considered  theoretically, 


INSTINCTIVE  DEMAND  OF  THE  PLEASURABLE.  123 

the  proposed  course  seems  the  best,  yet  if  it  produce 
no  interest,  or  less  interest  than  another  course,  we 
should  relinquish  it;  for  a  child's  intellectual  in- 
stincts are  more  trustworthy  than  our  reasonings. 
In  respect  to  the  knowing  faculties,  we  may  confi- 
dently trust  in  the  general  law,  that  under  normal 
conditions,   healthful  action  is  pleasurable,   while 
action  which  gives  pain  is  not  healthful.     Though 
at  present  very  incompletely  conformed  to  by  the 
emotional  nature,  yet  by  the  intellectual  nature,  or 
at  least  by  those  parts  of  it  which  the  child  exhibits, 
this  law  is  almost  wholly  conformed  to.     The  re- 
pugnances to  this  and  that  study  which  vex  the  or- 
dinary teacher,  are  not  innate,  but  result  from  his 
unwise  system.     Fellenberg  says,  "  Experience  has 
taught  me  that  indolence  in  young  persons  is  so 
directly  opposite  to  their  natural  disposition  to  ac- 
tivity, that  unless  it  is  the  consequence  of  bad  edu- 
cation, it  is  almost  invariably  connected  with  some 
constitutional  defect."     And  the  spontaneous  ac- 
tivity to  which  children  are  thus  prone,  is  simply 
the  pursuit  of  those  pleasures' which  the  healthful 
exercise  of  the  faculties  gives.     It  is  true  that  some 
of  the  higher  mental  powers  as  yet  but  little  devel- 
oped in  the  race,  and  congenitally  possessed  in  any 
considerable  degree  only  by  the  most  advanced,  are  ' 
indisposed  to  the  amount  of  exertion  required  of 


124  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

them.  But  these,  in  virtue  of  their  very  complex- 
ity, will,  in  a  normal  course  of  culture,  come  last 
into  exercise,  and  will  therefore  have  no  demands 
made  upon  them  until  the  pupil  has  arrived  at  an 
age  when  ulterior  motives  can  be  brought  into  play, 
and  an  indirect  pleasure  made  to  counterbalance  a 
direct  displeasure.  With  all  faculties  lower  than 
these,  however,  the  direct  gratification  consequent 
on  activity  is  the  normal  stimulus;  and  under  good 
management  the  only  needful  stimulus.  When 
we  are  obliged  to  fall  back  upon  some  other, 
we  must  take  the  fact  as  evidence  that  we  are 
on  the  wrong  track.  Experience  is  daily  shew- 
ing with  greater  clearness  that  there  is  always  a 
method  to  be  found  productive  of  interest — even 
of  delight;  and  it  ever  turns  out  that  this  is  the 
method  proved  by  all  other  tests  to  be  the  right 
one. 

With  most,  these  guiding  principles  will  weigh 
but  little  if  left  in  this  abstract  form.  Partly, 
therefore,  to  exemplify  their  application,  and  partly 
with  a  view  of  making  sundry  specific  suggestions, 
we  propose  now  to  pass  from  the  theory  of  educa- 
tion to  the  practice  of  it. 

It  was  the  opinion  of  Pestalozzi — an  opinion 
which  has  ever  since  his  day  been  gaining  ground 


IT  BEGINS  IN  INFANCY.  125 

— that  education  of  some  kind  should  begin  from 
the  cradle.  Whoever  has  watched  with  any  dis- 
cernment, the  wide-eyed  gaze  of  the  infant  at  sur- 
rounding objects,  knows  very  well  that  education 
does  begin  thus  early,  whether  we  intend  it  or  not; 
and  that  these  fingerings  and  suckings  of  every 
thing  it  can  lay  hold  of,  these  open-mouthed  listen- 
ings to  every  sound,  are  the  first  steps  in  the  series 
which  ends  in  the  discovery  of  unseen  planets,  the 
invention  of  calculating  engines,  the  production 
of  great  paintings,  or  the  composition  of  sympho- 
nies and  operas.  This  activity  of  the  faculties 
from  the  very  first  being  spontaneous  and  inevita- 
ble, the  question  is  whether  we  shall  supply  in  due 
variety  the  materials  on  which  they  may  exercise 
themselves;  and  to  the  question  so  put,  none  but  an 
affirmative  answer  can  be  given.  As  before  said, 
however,  agreement  with  Pestalozzi's  theory  does 
not  involve  agreement  with  his  practice;  and  here 
occurs  a  case  in  point.  Treating  of  instruction  in 
spelling  he  says: — 

"The  spelling-book  ought,  therefore,  to  contain  all  the 
sounds  of  the  language,  and  these  ought  to  be  taught  in 
every  family  from  the  earliest  infancy.  The  child  who 
learns  his  spelling-book  ought  to  repeat  them  to  the  infant 
in  the  cradle,  before  it  is  able  to  pronounce  even  one  of 
them,  so  that  they  may  be  deeply  impressed  upon  its  mind 
by  frequent  repetition." 


126  INTELLECTUAL  DUCATION. 

Joining  this  with  the  suggestions  for  "  a  nur- 
sery-method," as  set  down  in  his  "  Mother's  Man- 
ual," in  which  he  makes  the  names,  positions,  con- 
nexions, numbers,  properties,  and  uses  of  the  limbs 
and  body  his  first  lessons,  it  becomes  clear  that  Pes- 
talozzi's  notions  on  early  mental  development  were 
too  crude  to  enable  him  to  devise  judicious  plans. 
Let  us  inquire  into  the  course  which  Psychology 
dictates. 

The  earliest  impressions  which  the  mind  can  as- 
similate, are  those  given  to  it  by  the  undecompo- 
sable  sensations — resistance,  light,  sound,  &c. 
Manifestly  decomposable  states  of  consciousness 
cannot  exist  before  the  states  of  consciousness  out 
of  which  they  are  composed.  There  can  be  no 
idea  of  form  until  some  familiarity  with  light  in  its 
gradations  and  qualities,  or  resistance  in  its  differ- 
ent intensities,  has  been  acquired;  for,  as  has  been 
long  known,  we  recognize  visible  form  by  means  of 
varieties  of  light,  and  tangible  form  by  means  of 
varieties  of  resistance.  Similarly,  no  articulate 
sound  is  cognizable  until  the  inarticulate  sounds 
which  go  to  make  it  up  have  been  learned.  And 
thus  must  it  be  in  every  other  case.  Following, 
therefore,  the  necessary  law  of  progression  from 
the  simple  to  the  complex,  we  should  provide  for 
the  infant  a  sufficiency  of  objects  presenting  dif- 


EARLY  CULTURE  OF  THE  SENSES.  127 

ferent  degrees  and  kinds  of  resistance,  a  sufficiency 
of  objects  reflecting  different  amounts  and  quali- 
ties of  light,  and  a  sufficiency  of  sounds  contrasted 
in   their   loudness,    their   pitch    and   their   timbre. 
How  fully  this  a  priori  conclusion  is  confirmed  by 
infantile  instincts  all  will  see  on  being,  reminded  of 
the  delight  which  every  young  child  has  in  biting 
its  toys,  in  feeling  its  brother's  bright  jacket-but- 
tons, and  pulling  papa's  whiskers— how  absorbed  it 
becomes  in  gazing  at  any  gaudily  painted  object,  to 
which  it  applies  the  word  "  pretty,"  when  it  can 
pronounce  it,  wholly  in  virtue  of  the  bright  colours 
— and  how  its  face  broadens  into  a  laugh  at  the  tat- 
tlings  of  its  nurse,  the  snapping  of  a  visitor's  fingers, 
or  any  sound  which  it  has  not  before  heard.     For- 
tunately, the  ordinary  practices  of  the  nursery  fulfil 
these  early  requirements  of  education  to  a  consider- 
able degree.     Much,  however,  remains  to  be  done; 
and  it  is  of  more  importance  that  it  should  be  done 
than  at  first  appears.     Every  faculty  during  the 
period  of  its  greatest  activity— the  period  in  which 
it  is  spontaneously  evolving  itself— is  capable  of  re- 
ceiving more  vivid  impressions  than  at  any  other 
period.     Moreover,  as  these  simplest  elements  must 
eventually  be  mastered,  and  as  the  mastery  of  them 
whenever  achieved  must  take  time,  it  becomes  an 
economy  of  time  to  occupy  this  first  stage  of  child- 


128  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

hood,  during  which  no  other  intellectual  action  is 
possible,  in  gaining  a  complete  familiarity  with 
them  in  all  their  modifications.  Add  to  which, 
that  both  temper  and  health  will  be  improved  by 
the  continual  gratification  resulting  from  a  due 
supply  of  these  impressions  which  every  child  so 
greedily  assimilates.  Space,  could  it  be  spared, 
might  here  be  well  filled  by  some  suggestions  to- 
wards a  more  systematic  ministration  to  these  sim- 
plest of  the  perceptions.  But  it  must  sufiice  to 
point  out  that  any  sucli  ministration  ought  to  be 
based  upon  the  general  truth  that  in  the  develop- 
ment of  every  faculty,  markedly  contrasted  im- 
pressions are  the  first  to  be  distinguished:  that 
hence  sounds  greatly  differing  in  loudness  and 
pitch,  colours  very  remote  from  each  other,  and 
substances  widely  unlike  in  hardness  or  texture, 
should  be  the  first  supplied;  and  that  in  each  case 
the  progression  must  be  by  slow  degrees  to  impres- 
sions more  nearly  allied. 

Passing  on  to  object-lessons,  which  manifestly 
form  a  natural  continuation  of  this  primary  culture 
of  the  senses,  it  is  to  be  remarked,  that  the  system 
commonly  pursued  is  wholly  at  variance  with  the 
method  of  nature,  as  alike  exhibited  in  infancy,  in 
adult  life,  and  in  the  course  of  civilization.  "  The 
child,"  says  M.  Marcel,  "  must  be  shewn  how  all 


THE  CHILD'S  DEMAND  FOR  SYMPATHY.     129 

the  parts  of  an  object  are  connected,  &c. ;  "  and  the 
various  manuals  of  these  object-lessons  severally 
contain  lists  of  the  facts  which  the  child  is  to  be 
told  respecting  each  of  the  things  put  before  it. 
Xow  it  needs  but  a  glance  at  the  daily,  life  of  the 
infant  to  see  that  all  the  knowledge  of  things  which 
is  gained  before  the  acquirement  of  speech,  is  self- 
gained — that  the  qualities  of  hardness  and  weight 
associated  with  certain  visual  appearances,  the  pos- 
session of  particular  forms  and  colours  by  particular 
persons,  the  production  of  special  sounds  by  animals 
of  special  aspects,  are  phenomena  which  it  observes 
for  itself.  In  manhood  too,  when  there  are  no 
longer  teachers  at  hand,  the  observations  and  infer- 
ences required  for  daily  guidance,  must  be  made 
unhelped;  and  success  in  life  depends  upon  the  ac- 
curacy and  completeness  with  which  they  are  made. 

* 
Is  it  probable  then,  that  while  the  process  displayed 

in  the  evolution  of  humanity  at  large,  is  repeated 
alike  by  the  infant  aud  the  man,  a  reverse  process 
must  be  followed  during  the  period  between  infancy 
and  manhood^  and  that  too,  even  in  ^o  simple  a 
thing  as  learning  the  properties  of  objects?  Is  it 
not  obvious,  on  the  contrary,  that  one  method  must 
be  pursued  throughout  ?  And  is  not  nature  perpet- 
ually thrusting  this  method  upon  us,  if  we  had  but 
the  wit  to  see  it,  and  the  humility  to  adopt  it? 


130  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

"What  can  be  more  manifest  than  the  desire  of  chil- 
dren for  intellectual  sympathy?  Mark  how  the 
infant  sitting  on  your  knee  thrusts  into  your  face 
the  toy  it  holds,  that  you  too  may  look  at  it.  See 
when  it  makes  a  creak  with  its  wet  finger  on  the 
table,  how  it  turns  and  looks  at  you;  does  it  again, 
and  again  looks  at  you;  thus  saying  as  clearly  as 
it  can — "  Hear  this  new  sound."  Watch  how  the 
elder  children  come  into  the  room  exclaiming — 
"  Mamma,  see  what  a  curious  thing,"  "  Mamma, 
look  at  this,"  "  Mamma,  look  at  that;  "  and  would 
continue  the  habit,  did  not  the  silly  mamma  tell 
them  not  to  tease  her.  Observe  how,  when  out 
with  the  nurse-maid,  each  little  one  runs  up  to  her 
with  the  new  flower  it  has  gathered,  to  show  her 
how  pretty  it  is,  and  to  get  her  also,  to  say  it  is 
pretty.  Listen  to  the  eager  volubility  with  which 
every  urchin  describes  any  novelty  he  has  been  to 
see,  if  only  he  can  find  some  one  who  will  attend 
with  any  interest.  Does  not  the  induction  lie  on  the 
surface?  Is  it  not  clear  that  we  must  conform  our 
course  to  these  intellectual  instincts — that  we  must 
just  systematize  the  natural  process — that  we  must 
listen  to  all  the  child  has  to  tell  us  about  each  ob- 
ject, must  induce  it  to  say  every  thing  it  can  think 
of  about  such  object,  must  occasionally  draw  its 
attention  to  facts  it  has  not  yet  observed,  with  the 


TRUE  METHOD  OF  OBJECT-LESSONS.        131 

view  of  leading  it  to  notice  them  itself  whenever 
thej  recur,  and  must  go  on  by  and  by  to  indicate  or 
supply  new  series  of  things  for  a  like  exhaustive  ex- 
amination ?  See  the  way  in  which,  on  this  method, 
the  intelligent  mother  conducts  her  lessons.  Step 
by  step  she  familiarizes  her  little  boy  with  the 
names  of  the  simpler  attributes,  hardness,  softness, 
colour,  taste,  size,  &c.,  in  doing  which  she  finds  him 
eagerly  help  by  bringing  this  to  show  her  that  it  is 
red,  and  the  other  to  make  her  feel  that  it  is  hard, 
as  fast  as  she  gives  him  words  for  these  properties. 
Each  additional  property,  as  she  draws  his  atten- 
tion to  it  in  some  fresh  thing  which  he  brings  her, 
she  takes  care  to  mention  in  connexion  with  those 
he  already  knows;  so  that  by  the  natural  tendency 
to  imitate,  he  may  get  into  the  habit  of  repeating 
them  one  after  another.  Gradually  as  there  occur 
cases  in  which  he  omits  to  name  one  or  more  of  the 
properties  he  has  become  acquainted  with,  she  in- 
troduces the  practice  of  asking  him  whether  there  is 
not  something  more  that  he  can  tell  her  about  the 
thing  he  has  got.  Probably  he  does  not  under- 
stand. After  letting  him  puzzle  awhile  she  tells 
him;  perhaps  laughing  at  him  a  little  fOr  his  fail- 
ure. A  few  recurrences  of  this  and  he  perceives 
what  is  to  be  done.  When  next  she  says  she  knows 
something  more  about  the  object  than  he  has  told 


132  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

her,  his  pride  is  roused;  he  looks  at  it  intently; 
he  thinks  over  all  that  he  has  heard;  and  the  prob- 
lem being  easy,  presently  finds  it  out.  He  is  full  of 
glee  at  his  success,  and  she  sympathizes  with  him. 
In  common  with  every  child,  he  delights  in  the  dis- 
covery of  his  powers.  He  wishes  for  more  victories, 
and  goes  in  quest  of  more  things  about  which  to 
tell  her.  As  his  faculties  unfold  she  adds  quality 
after  quality  to  his  list:  progressing  from  hardness 
and  softness  to  roughness  and  smoothness,  from  col- 
our to  polish,  from  simple  bodies  to  composite  ones 
— thus  constantly  complicating  the  problem  as  he 
gains  competence,  constantly  taxing  his  attention 
and  memory  to  a  greater  extent,  constantly  main- 
taining his  interest  by  supplying  him  with  new  im- 
pressions such  as  his  mind  can  assimilate,  and  con- 
stantly gratifying  him  by  conquests  over  such  small 
difficulties  as  he  can  master.  In  doing  this  she  is 
manifestly  but  following  out  that  spontaneous  pro- 
cess that  was  going  on  during  a  still  earlier  period 
— simply  aiding  self-evolution;  and  is  aiding  it  in 
the  mode  suggested  by  the  boy's  instinctive  behav- 
iour to  her.  Manifestly,  too,  the  course  she  is  pur- 
suing is  the  one  best  calculated  to  establish  a  habit 
of  exhaustive  observation;  which  is  the  professed 
aim  of  these  lessons.  To  tell  a  child  this  and  to 
shoiv  it  the  other,  is  not  to  teach  it  how  to  observe, 


TRAINING  THE  OBSERVATION.  133 

but  to  make  it  a  mere  recipient  of  another's  observa- 
tions: a  proceeding  which  weakens  rather  than 
strengthens  its  powers  of  seK-instruction — which 
deprives  it  of  the  pleasures  resulting  from  success- 
ful activity — which  presents  this  all-attractive 
knowledge  under  the  aspect  of  formal  tuition — and 
which  thus  generates  that  indifference  and  even 
disgust  with  which  these  object-lessons  are  not  un- 
frequently  regarded.  On  the  other  hand,  to  pur- 
sue the  course  above  described  is  simply  to  guide 
the  intellect  to  its  appropriate  food;  to  join  with 
the  intellectual  appetites  their  natural  adjuncts — 
amour  propre  and  the  desire  for  sympathy;  to  in- 
duce by  the  union  of  all  these  an  intensity  of  at- 
tention which  insures  perceptions  alike  vivid  and 
complete;  and  to  habituate  the  mind  from  the  be- 
ginning to  that  practice  of  self-help  which  it  must 
ultimately  follow. 

Object-lessons  should  not  only  be  carried  on 
after  quite  a  different  fashion  from  that  commonly 
pursued,  but  should  be  extended  to  a  range  of 
things  far  wider,  and  continue  to  a  period  far  later, 
than  now.  They  should  not  be  limited  to  the  con- 
tents of  the  house;  but  should  include  those  of  the 
fields  and  the  hedges,  the  quarry  and  the  sea-shore. 
They  should  not  cease  with  early  childhood;  but 
should  be  so  kept  up  during  youth  as  insensibly  to 


134  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION". 

merge  into  the  investigations  of  the  naturalist  and 
the  man  of  science.  Here  again  we  have  but  to 
follow  nature's  leadings.  Wlicre  can  be  seen  an  in- 
tenser  delight  than  that  of  children  picking  up  new 
flowers  and  watching  new  insects,  or  hoarding  peb- 
bles and  shells?  And  who  is  there  but  perceives 
that  by  sympathizing  with  them  they  may  be  led 
on  to  any  extent  of  inquiry  into  the  qualities  and 
structures  of  these  things?  Every  botanist  who 
has  had  children  with  him  in  the  woods  and  the 
lanes  must  have  noticed  how  eagerly  they  joined  in 
his  pursuits,  how  keenly  they  searched  out  plants 
for  him,  how  intently  they  watched  whilst  he  ex- 
amined them,  how  they  overwhelmed  him  with 
questions.  The  consistent  follower  of  Bacon — the 
"  servant  and  interpreter  of  nature,"  will  see  that 
we  ought  modestly  to  adopt  the  course  of  culture 
thus  indicated.  Having  gained  due  familiarity 
with  the  simpler  properties  of  inorganic  objects, 
the  child  should  by  the  same  process  be  led  on  to  a 
like  exhaustive  examination  of  the  things  it  picks 
up  in  its  daily  walks — the  less  comi^lex  facts  they 
present  being  alone  noticed  at  first:  in  plants,  the 
colour,  number,  and  forms  of  the  petals  and  shapes  • 
of  the  stalks  and  leaves:  in  insects,  the  numbers  of 
the  wings,  legs,  and  antennae,  and  their  colours. 
As  these  become  fully  appreciated  and  invariably 


TRAINING  THE  OBSERVATION.  135 

observed,  further  facts  may  be  successively  intro- 
duced: in  the  one  case,  the  numbers  of  stamens  and 
pistils,  the  forms  of  the  flowers,  whether  radial  or 
bilateral  in  symmetry,  the  arrangement  and  charac- 
ter of  the  leaves,  whether  opposite  or  alternate, 
stalked  or  sessile,  smooth  or  hairy,  serrated,  toothed, 
or  crenate;  in  the  other,  the  divisions  of  the  body, 
the  segments  of  the  abdomen,  the  markings  of  the 
wings,  the  number  of  joints  in  the  legs,  and  the 
forms  of  the  smaller  organs — the  system  pursued 
throughout  being  that  of  making  it  the  child's  am- 
bition to  say  respecting  everything  it  finds,  all  that 
can  be  said.  Then  when  a  fit  age  has  been  reached, 
the  means  of  preserving  these  plants  which  have 
become  so  interesting  in  virtue  of  the  knowledge 
obtained  of  them,  may  as  a  great  favour  be  sup- 
plied; and  eventually,  as  a  still  greater  favour, 
may  also  be  supplied  the  apparatus  needful  for 
keeping  the  larvae  of  our  common  butterflies  and 
moths  through  their  transformations — a  practice 
which,  as  we  can  personally  testify,  yields  the  high- 
est gratification;  is  continued  with  ardour  for 
years;  when  joined  with  the  formation  of  an  ento- 
mological collection,  adds  immense  interest  to  Sat- 
urday-afternoon rambles;  and  forms  an  admirable 
introduction  to  the  study  of  physiology. 

We  are  quite  prepared  to  hear  from  many  that 


130  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

all  this  is  throwing  away  time  and  energy;  and  that 
children  would  be  much  better  occupied  in  writing 
their  copies  or  learning  their  pence-tables,  and  so 
fitting  themselves  for  the  business  of  life.  We  re- 
gret that  such  crude  ideas  of  what  constitutes 
education  and  such  a  narrow  conception  of  utility, 
should  still  be  generally  prevalent.  Saying  noth- 
ing on  the  need  for  a  systematic  culture  of  the  per- 
ceptions and  the  value  of  the  practices  above  in- 
culcated, as  subserving  that  need,  we  are  prepared 
to  defend  them  even  on  the  score  of  the  kn(jwledge 
gained.  If  men  are  to  be  mere  cits,  mere  porers 
over  ledgers,  witli  no  ideas  beyond  their  trades — 
if  it  is  well  that  they  should  be  as  the  cockney  whose 
conception  of  rural  pleasures  extends  no  further 
than  sitting  in  a  tea-garden  smoking  pipes  and 
drinking  porter;  or  as  the  squire  who  thinks  of 
woods  as  places  for  shooting  in,  of  uncultivated 
plants  as  notliing  but  weeds,  and  who  classifies  ani- 
mals into  game,  vermin,  and  stock — then  indeed  it 
is  needless  for  men  to  learn  any  thing  that  does  not 
directly  help  to  replenish  the  till  and  fill  the  larder. 
But  if  there  is  a  more  worthy  aim  for  us  than  to  be 
drudges — if  there  are  other  uses  in  the  things 
around  us  than  their  power  to  bring  money — if 
there  are  higher  faculties  to  be  exercised  than  ac- 
quisitive and  sensual  ones — if  the  pleasures  which 


ENLARGED  VIEWS  OP  ITS  IMPORT.  137 

poetry  and  art  and  science  and  philosophy  can  bring 
are  of  any  moment — then  is  it  desirable  that  the  in- 
stinctive inclination  which  every  child  shows  to  ob- 
serve natural  beauties  and  investigate  natural  phe- 
nomena should  be  encouraged.  But  this  gross  util- 
itarianism which  is  content  to  come  into  the  world 
and  quit  it  again  without  knowing  what  kind  of  a 
world  it  is  or  what  it  contains,  may  be  met  on  its 
own  ground.  It  will  by  and  by  be  found  that  a 
knowledge  of  the  laws  of  life  is  more  important 
than  any  other  knowledge  whatever — that  the  laws 
of  life  include  not  only  all  bodily  and  mental  pro- 
cesses, but  by  implication  all  the  transactions  of 
the  house  and  the  street,  all  commerce,  all  politics, 
all  morals — and  that  therefore  without  a  due  ac- 
quaintance with  them  neither  personal  nor  social 
conduct  can  be  rightly  regulated.  It  will  eventu- 
ally be  seen  too,  that  the  laws  of  life  are  essentially 
the  same  throughout  the  whole  organic  creation; 
and  further,  that  they  cannot  be  properly  under- 
stood in  their  complex  manifestations  until  they 
have  been  studied  in  their  simpler  ones.  And 
when  this  is  seen,  it  will  be  also  seen  that  in  aiding 
the  child  to  acquire  the  out-of-door  information  for 
which  it  shews  so  great  an  avidity,  and  in  encourag- 
ing the  acquisition  of  such  information  throughout 

youth,  we  are  simply  inducing  it  to  store  up  the  raw 
19 


138  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

material  for  future  organization — the  facts  that 
will  one  day  bring  home  to  it  with  due  force  those 
great  generalizations  of  science  by  which  actions 
may  be  rightly  guided. 

The  spreading  recognition  of  drawing  as  an  ele- 
ment of  education,  is  one  amongst  many  signs  of 
the  more  rational  views  on  mental  culture  now  be- 
ginning to  i)revail.  Once  more  it  nuiy  be  re- 
marked that  teachers  are  at  length  adopting  the 
course  which  nature  has  for  ages  been  pressing  upon 
their  notice.  The  spontaneous  efforts  made  by 
children  to  represent  the  men,  houses,  trees,  and 
animals  around  them — on  a  slate  if  they  can  get 
nothing  better,  or  with  lead-pencil  on  jiaper,  if  they 
can  beg  them — are  familiar  to  all.  To  be  shown 
through  a  picture-book  is  one  of  their  highest  grati- 
fications; and  as  usual,  their  strong  imitative  ten- 
dency presently  generates  in  them  the  ambition  to 
make  pictures  themselves  also.  This  attempt  to  de- 
pict the  striking  things  they  see  is  a  further  instinc- 
tive exercise  of  the  perceptions — a  means  whereby 
still  greater  accuracy  and  completeness  of  observa- 
tion is  induced.  And  alike  by  seeking  to  interest 
us  in  their  discoveries  of  the  sensible  properties  of 
things,  and  by  their  endeavours  to  draw",  they  so- 
licit from  us  just  that  kind  of  culture  which  they 
most  need. 


DRAWING— EARLY  USE  OF  COLOURS.        139 

Had  teachers  been  guided  by  nature's  hints  not 
only  in  the  making  of  drawing  a  part  of  education, 
but  in  the  choice  of  their  modes  of  teaching  it,  they 
woukl  have  done  still  better  than  they  have  done, 
AVhat  is  it  that  the  child  first  tries  to  represent^ 
Things  that  are  large,  things  that  are  attractive  in 
colour,  things  round  which  its  pleasurable  associa- 
tions must  cluster — human  beings  from  whom  it 
has  received  so  many  emotions,  cows  and  dogs  which 
interest  by  the  many  phenomena  they  present, 
houses  that  are  hourly  visible  and  strike  by  their 
size  and  contrast  of  parts.  And  which  of  all  the 
processes  of  representation  gives  it  most  delight? 
Colouring.  Paper  and  pencil  are  good  in  default 
of  something  better;  but  a  box  of  paints  and  a 
brush — these  are  the  treasures.  The  drawing  of 
outlines  immediately  becomes  secondary  to  colour- 
ing— is  gone  through  mainly  with  a  view  to  the 
colouring;  and  if  leave  can  be  got  to  colour  a  book 
of  prints,  how  great  is  the  favour!  Xow,  ridicu- 
lous as  such  a  position  will  seem  to  drawing-masters, 
who  postpone  colouring  and  who  teach  form  by  a 
dreary  discipline  of  copying  lines,  we  believe  that 
the  course  of  culture  thus  indicated  is  the  right  one. 
That  priority  of  colour  to  form,  which,  as  already 
pointed  out,  has  a  psychological  basis,  and  in  virtue 
of  which  psychological  basis  arises  this  strong  pref- 


140       INTELLFX'TUAL  EDUCATION. 

erencc  in  the  child,  sliould  be  recognized  from  the 
very  beginning;  and  from  the  very  beginning  also 
the  things  iniitatc(l  sliould  be  real.  That  greater 
delight  in  colour  which  is  not  only  conspicuous  in 
children  but  pei-sists  in  most  persons  throughout 
life,  should  be  continuously  employed  as  the  natu- 
ral stimulus  to  the  nuistery  of  the  comparatively 
difficult  and  unattractive  form — rshould  be  the  pro- 
spective reward  for  the  achievement  of  form.  And 
these  instinctive  attempts  to  represent  interesting 
actualities  should  be  all  along  encouraged;  in  the 
conviction  that  as,  by  a  widening  experience,  small- 
er and  more  practicable  objects  become  interesting, 
they  too  will  be  attemjited;  and  that  so  a  gradual 
approximation  will  be  made  towards  imitations  hav- 
ing some  resemblance  to  the  realities.  No  matter 
how  grotesque  the  shapes  produced:  no  matter  how 
daubed  and  glaring  the  colours.  The  question  is 
not  whether  the  child  is  producing  good  drawings: 
the  question  is,  whether  it  is  developing  its  facul- 
ties. It  has  first  to  gain  some  command  over  its 
fingers,  some  crude  notions  of  likeness;  and  this 
practice  is  better  than  any  other  for  these  ends; 
seeing  that  it  is  the  spontaneous  and  the  interesting 
one.  During  these  early  years,  be  it  remembered, 
no  formal  draw^ing-lessons  are  possible:  shall  we 
therefore  repress,  or  neglect  to  aid,  these  efforts  at 


DRAWING— EARLY  USE  OF  COLOURS.        141 

self -culture  ?  or  shall  we  encourage  and  guide  them 
as  normal  exercises  of  the  perceptions  and  the  pow- 
ers of  manipulation?  If  by  the  supply  of  cheap 
woodcuts  to  be  coloured,  and  simple  contour-maps 
to  have  their  boundary-lines  tinted,  we  can  not  only 
pleasurably  draw  out  the  faculty  of  colour,  but  can 
incidentally  produce  some  familiarity  with  the  out- 
lines of  things  and  countries,  and  some  ability  to 
move  the  brush  steadily;  and  if  by  the  supply  of 
temptingly-painted  objects  we  can  keep  up  the  in- 
stinctive practice  of  making  representations,  how- 
ever rough,  it  must  happen  that  by  the  time  draw- 
ing is  commonly  commenced  there  will  exist  a  facil- 
ity that  would  else  have  been  absent.  Time  will 
have  been  gained;  and  trouble  both  to  teacher  and 
pupil,  saved. 

From  all  that  has  been  said,  it  may  be  readily 
inferred  that  we  wholly  disapprove  of  the  practice 
of  drawing  from  copies;  and  still  more  so  of  that 
formal  discipline  in  making  straight  lines  and 
curved  lines  and  compound  lines,  with  which  it  is 
the  fashion  of  some  teachers  to  begin.  We  regret 
to  find  that  the  Society  of  Arts  has  recently,  in  its 
series  of  manuals  on  "  Rudimentary  Art-Instruc- 
tion," given  its  countenance  to  an  elementary  draw- 
ing-book, which  is  the  most  vicious  in  principle  that 
we  have  seen.     We  refer  to  the  "  Outline  from 


142  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

Outline,  or  from  the  Flat,"  by  John  Boll,  sculptor. 
As  expressed  in  the  prefatory  note,  this  publication 
proposes  "  to  place  before  the  student  a  simple,  yet 
logical  mode  of  instruction;  "  and  to  this  end  sets 
out  with  a  number  of  definitions  thus: — 

"A  simple  line  in  drawing  is  a  thin  mark  drawn  from 
one  point  to  another. 

"Lines  may  be  divided,  as  to  their  nature  in  drawing, 
into  two  classes : — 

"  1.  Straujht,  which  are  marks  that  go  the  shortest  road 
between  two  points,  as  A  B. 

"2.  Or  Curred,  which  are  marks  which  do  not  go  the 
shortest  road  between  two  points,  as  C  D." 

And  so  the  introduction  progresses  to  horizontal 
lines,  perpendicular  lines,  oblique  lines,  angles  of 
the  several  kinds,  and  the  various  figures  which 
lines  and  angles  make  up.  The  work  is,  in  short,  a 
grammar  of  form,  with  exercises.  And  thus  the 
system  of  commencing  with  a  dry  analysis  of  ele- 
ments, which,  in  the  teaching  of  language,  has  been 
exploded,  is  to  be  re-instituted  in  the  teaching  of 
drawing.  The  abstract  is  to  be  preliminary  to  the 
concrete.  Scientific  conceptions  are  to  precede  em- 
pirical experiences.  That  this  is  an  inversion  of 
the  normal  order,  we  need  scarcely  repeat.  It  has 
been  well  said  concerning  the  custom  of  prefacing 
the  art  of  speaking  any  tongue  by  a  drilling  in  the 
parts  of  speech  and  their  functions,  that  it  is  about 


ERRONEOUS  METHOD   IN   DRAWING.         143 

as  reasonable  as  prefacing  the  art  of  walking  by  a 
course  of  lessons  on  the  bones,  muscles,  and  nerves 
of  the  legs;  and  much  the  same  thing  may  be  said 
of  the  proposal  to  preface  the  art  of  representing 
objects  by  a  nomenclature  and  definitions  of  the 
lines  which  they  yield  on  analysis.     These  techni- 
calities are  alike  repulsive  and  needless.     They  ren- 
der the  study  distasteful  at  the  very  outset;  and  all 
with  the  view  of  teaching  that,  which,  in  the  course 
of  practice,  will  be  learnt  unconsciously.     Just  as 
the  child  incidentally  gathers  the  meanings  of  ordi- 
nary words  from  the  conversations  going  on  around 
it,  without  the  help  of  dictionaries;  so,  from  the 
remarks  on  objects,  pictures,  and  its  own  drawings, 
will  it  presently  acquire,  not  only  without  effort  but 
even  pleasurably,  those  same  scientific  terms,  which, 
if  presented  at  first,  are  a  mystery  and  a  weariness. 
If  any  dependence  is  to  be  placed  upon  the 
general  principles  of  education  that  have  been  laid 
down,  the  process  of  learning  to  draw  should  be 
throughout  continuous  with  those  efforts  of  early 
childhood  described  above,  as  so  worthy  of  encour- 
agement.    By  the  time  that  the  voluntary  practice 
thus  initiated  has  given  some  steadiness  of  hand, 
and  some  tolerable  ideas  of  proportion,  there  will 
have  arisen  a  vague  notion  of  body  as  presenting  its 
three  dimensions  in  perspective.     And  when,  after 


144  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

sundry  abortive,  Chinese-like  attempts  to  render 
this  appearance  on  paper,  there  has  grown  up  a 
pretty  clear  perception  of  the  thing  to  be  achieved, 
and  a  desire  to  achieve  it,  a  first  lesson  in  empirical 
perspective  may  be  given  by  means  of  the  apparatus 
occasionally  used  in  explaining  perspective  as  a  sci- 
ence. This  sounds  formidable;  but  the  experi- 
ment is  both  comprehensive  and  interesting  to  any 
boy  or  girl  of  ordinary  intelligence.  A  plate  of 
glass  so  framed  as  to  stand  vertically  on  the  table, 
being  placed  before  the  pupil,  and  a  book,  or  like 
simple  object  laid  on  the  other  side  of  it,  he  is  re- 
quested, whilst  keeping  the  eye  in  one  position,  to 
make  ink  dots  U])on  the  glass,  so  that  they  may 
coincide  with,  or  hide  the  corners  of  this  object, 
lie  is  then  told  to  join  tli^se  dots  by  lines;  on  doing 
which  he  perceives  that  the  lines  he  makes  hide,  or 
coincide  with,  the  outlines  of  the  object.  And 
then,  on  being  asked  to  put  a  sheet  of  paper  on  the 
other  side  of  the  glass,  he  discovers  that  the  lines  he 
has  thus  drawn  represent  the  object  as  he  saw  it. 
They  not  only  look  like  it,  but  he  perceives  that  they 
must  be  like  it,  because  he  made  them  agree  with 
its  outlines;  and  by  removing  the  paper  he  can  re- 
peatedly convince  himself  that  they  do  agree  with 
its  outlines.  The  fact  is  new^  and  striking;  and 
serves  him  as  an  experimental  demonstration,  that 


EARLY   LESSONS  IN  PERSPECTIVE.         I45 

lines  of  certain  lengths,  placed  in  certain  directions 
on  a  plane,  can  represent  lines  of  other  lengths,  and 
having  other  directions  in  space.  Subsequently, 
by  gradually  changing  the  position  of  the  object, 
he  may  be  led  to  observe  how  some  lines  shorten 
and  disappear,  whilst  others  come  into  «ight  and 
lengthen.  The  convergence  of  parallel  lines,  and, 
indeed,  all  the  leading  facts  of  perspective  may, 
from  time  to  time,  be  similarly  illustrated  to  him. 
If  he  has  been  duly  accustomed  to  self-help,  he  will 
gladly,  when  it  is  suggested,  make  the  attempt  to 
draw  one  of  these  outlines  upon  paper,  by  the  eye 
only;  and  it  may  soon  be  made  an  exciting  aim  to 
produce,  unassisted,  a  representation,  as  like  as  he 
can,  to  one  subsequently  sketched  on  the  glass. 
Thus,  without  the  unintelligent,  mechanical  prac- 
tice of  copying  other  drawings,  but  by  a  method  at 
once  simple  and  attractive — rational,  yet  not  ab- 
stract, a  familiarity  witli  the  linear  appearances  of 
things,  and  a  faculty  of  rendering  them,  may  be, 
step  by  step,  acquired.  To  which  advantages  add 
these: — that  even  thus  early  the  pupil  learns,  al- 
most unconsciously,  the  true  theory  of  a  picture — 
namely,  that  it  is  a  delineation  of  objects  as  they 
appear  when  projected  on  a  plane  placed  between 
them  and  the  eye;  and  that  when  he  reaches  a  fit 
age  for  commencing  scientific  perspective  he  is  al- 


146  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

roady  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  factd  which 
form  its  logical  basis. 

As  exhibiting  a  rational  mode  of  communicat- 
ing primary  conceptions  in  geometry,  we  cannot  do 
better  than  quote  the  following  passage  from  Mr. 
Wyse: — • 

"A  child  has  boea  in  the  habit  of  using  cubes  for  arith- 
metic ;  let  him  use  them  also  for  the  elements  of  geometry. 
I  would  begin  with  solids,  the  reverse  of  the  usual  plan. 
It  saves  all  the  ditticulty  of  absurd  definitions,  and  bad  ex- 
planations on  points,  lines,  and  surfaces,  wiiich  are  nothing 
but  abstractions.  ...  A  cube  presents  many  of  the  prin- 
cipal elements  of  geometry  ;  it  at  once  exhibits  points, 
straight  lines,  parallel  lines,  angles,  parallelograms,  &c.,  &c. 
These  cubes  are  divisible  into  various  parts.  The  pupil  has 
already  been  familiarized  with  such  divisions  in  numeration, 
and  he  now  proceeds  to  a  comparison  of  their  several  parts, 
and  of  the  relation  of  these  parts  to  each  other.  .  .  .  From 
thence  he  advances  to  globes,  which  furnish  him  with  ele- 
mentary notions  of  the  circle,  of  curves  generally,  &c.,  &c. 

"Being  tolerably  familiar  with  solids,  he  may  now  sub- 
stitute planes.  The  transition  may  be  made  very  easy.  Let 
the  cube,  for  instance,  be  cut  into  thin  divisions,  and  placed 
on  paper  ;  he  will  then  see  as  many  plane  rectangles  as  he 
has  divisions  ;  so  with  all  the  others.  Globes  may  be 
treated  in  the  same  manner  ;  he  will  thus  see  how  surfaces 
really  are  generated,  and  be  enabled  to  abstract  them  with 
facility  in  every  solid. 

"He  has  thus  acquired  the  alphabet  and  reading  of 
geometry.     He  now  proceeds  to  write  it. 

"The  simplest  operation,  and  therefore  the  first,  is 
merely  to  place  these  planes  on  a  piece  of  paper,  and  pass 
the  pencil   round   them.     When  this  has  been  frequently 


PRIMARY   LESSONS  IN  GEOMETRY.  147 

done,  the  plane  may  be  put  at  a  little  distance,  and  the 
child  required  to  copy  it,  and  so  on." 

A  stock  of  geometrical  conceptions  having  been 
obtained,  in  some  such  manner  as  this  recommend- 
ed by  ^Ir.  Wyse,  a  further  step  may,  in  course  of 
time,  be  taken,  by  introducing  the  practice  of  test- 
ing the  correctness  of  all  figures  drawn  by  the  eye; 
thus  alike  exciting  an  ambition  to  make  them  ex- 
act, and  continually  illustrating  the  difficulty  of 
fulfilling  that  ambition.  There  can  be  little  doubt 
that  geometry  had  its  origin  (as,  indeed,  the  word 
implies)  in  the  methods  discovered  by  artisans  and 
others,  of  making  accurate  measurement  for  the 
foundations  of  buildings,  areas  of  inclosures,  and 
the  like;  and  that  its  truths  came  to  be  treasured 
up,  merely  with  a  view  to  their  immediate  utility. 
They  should  be  introduced  to  the  pupil  under  anal- 
ogous relationships.  In  the  cutting  out  of  pieces 
for  his  card-houses,  in  the  drawing  of  ornamental 
diagrams  for  colouring,  and  in  those  various  in- 
structive occupations  which  an  inventive  teacher 
will  lead  him  into,  he  may  be  for  a  length  of  time 
advantageously  left,  like  the  primitive  builder,  to 
tentative  processes;  and  will  so  gain  an  abundant 
experience  of  the  difficulty  of  achieving  his  aims  by 
the  unaided  senses.  "When,  having  meanwhile 
undergone  a  valuable  discipline  of  the  perceptions. 


148  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

lie  liiis  roiu'lied  a  fit  age  for  using  a  j)air  of  compass- 
es, he  will,  whilst  duly  appreciating  these  as  en- 
abling him  to  verify  his  ocular  guesses,  be  still  hin- 
dered by  the  difficulties  of  the  approximative 
method.  In  this  stage  he  may  be  left  for  a  further 
period:  ])artly  as  being  yet  too  young  for  anything 
higher;  ]»artly  because  it  is  desirable  that  he  should 
be  made  to  feel  still  more  strongly  the  want  of 
systematic  contrivances.  If  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge  is  to  be  made  continuously  interesting; 
and  if,  in  the  early  civilization  of  the  child,  as  in 
the  early  civilization  of  the  race,  science  becomes 
attractive  only  as  ministering  to  art;  it  is  manifest 
that  the  ]iro])er  preliminary  to  geometry  is  a  long 
practice  in  those  constructive  processes  which 
geometry  will  facilitate.  Observe  that  here,  too, 
nature  points  the  way.  Almost  invariably,  chil- 
dren show  a  strong  ])ropensity  to  cut  out  things  in 
paper,  to  make,  to  build — a  propensity  which,  if 
duly  encouraged  and  directed,  will  not  only  pre- 
pare the  way  for  scientific  conceptions,  but  will  de- 
velop those  powers  of  manipulation  in  which  most 
people  are  so  deficient. 

When  the  observing  and  inventive  faculties 
have  attained  the  requisite  power,  the  pupil  may 
be  introduced  to  empirical  geometry;  that  is — 
geometry  dealing  with  methodical   solutions,   but 


HOW  GEOMETRY  IS  MADE  ATTRACTIVE.   149 

not  with  the  demonstrations  of  them.  Like  all 
other  transitions  in  education,  this  should  be  made 
not  formally  but  incidentally;  and  the  relationship 
to  constructive  art  should  still  be  maintained.  To 
make  a  tetrahedron  in  cardboard,  like  one  given  to 
him,  is  a  problem  which  will  alike  interest  the 
pupil,  and  serve  as  a  convenient  starting-point.  In 
attempting  this,  he  finds  it  needful  to  draw  four 
equilateral  triangles  arranged  in  special  positions." 
Being  unable  in  the  absence  of  an  exact  method  to 
do  this  accurately  he  discovers  on  putting  the  tri- 
angles into  their  respective  positions,  that  he  can 
not  make  their  sides  fit,  and  that  their  angles  do 
not  properly  meet  at  the  ajjcx.  He  may  now  be 
shown  how  by  describing  a  couple  of  circles,  each 
of  these  triangles  may  be  drawn  with  perfect  cor- 
rectness and  without  guessing;  and  after  his  failure 
he  will  duly  value  the  information.  Having  thus 
helped  him  to  the  solution  of  his  first  problem, 
with  the  view  of  illustrating  the  nature  of  geomet- 
rical methods,  he  is  in  future  to  be  left  altogether 
to  his  own  ingenuity  in  solving  the  questions  put 
to  him.  To  bisect  a  line,  to  erect  a  perpendicular, 
to  describe  a  square,  to  bisect  an  angle,  to  draw  a 
line  parallel  to  a  given  line,  to  describe  a  hexagon, 
are  problems  which  a  little  patience  will  enable  him 
to  find  out.     And  from  these  he  may  be  led  on 


150  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

Step  by  step  to  questions  of  a  more  complex  kind; 
all  of  which,  under  judicious  management,  he  will 
puzzle  through  unhclped.  Doubtless,  many  of 
those  brought  up  under  the  old  regime,  will  look 
upon  this  assertion  sceptically.  We  speak  from 
facts,  however,  and  those  neither  few  nor  special. 
A\'c  have  seen  a  class  of  boys  become  so  interested 
in  making  out  solutions  to  these  problems,  as  to 
look  forward  to  their  geometry-lesson  as  a  chief 
event  of  the  week.  Within  the  last  month,  we 
have  been  told  of  one  girls'  scho(jl,  in  which  some 
of  the  young  ladies  voluntarily  occupy  themselves 
with  geometrical  questions  out  of  school-hours;  and 
of  another,  in  which  they  not  only  do  this,  but  in 
whicli  one  of  them  is  begging  for  problems  to  find 
out  (luring  the  holidays — l)oth  which  facts  we  state 
on  the  authority  of  the  teacher.  There  could  in- 
deed be  no  stronger  proofs  than  are  thus  afforded 
of  the  practicability  and  the  immense  advantage  of 
self-development.  A  branch  of  knowledge  which 
as  commonly  taught  is  dry  and  even  repulsive,  may, 
by  following  the  method  of  nature,  be  made  ex- 
tremely interesting  and  profoundly  beneficial. 
We  say  profoundly  beneficial,  because  the  effects 
are  not  confined  to  the  gaining  of  geometrical  facts, 
but  often  revolutionize  the  whole  state  of  mind. 
It  has  repeatedly  occurred,  that  those  who  have 


HOW  GEOMETRY  IS  MADE  ATTRACTIVE.    151 

been  stupefied  by  the  ordinary  school-drill — by  its 
abstract  formulas,  by  its  wearisome  tasks,  by  its 
cramming — have  suddenly  had  their  intellects 
roused,  by  thus  ceasing  to  make  them  passive  recipi- 
ents, and  inducing  them  to  become  active  discover- 
ers. The  discouragement  brought  about  by  bad 
teaching  having  been  diminished  by  a  little  sympa- 
thy and  sufficient  perseverance  induced  to  achieve 
a  first  success,  there  arises  a  revulsion  of  feeling 
affecting  the  whole  nature.  They  no  longer  find 
themselves  incompetent;  they  too  can  do  some- 
thing. And  gradually  as  success  follows  success, 
the  incubus  of  despair  disappears,  and  they  attack 
the  difficulties  of  their  other  studies  with  a  courage 
that  insures  conquest. 

This  empirical  geometry  which  presents  an  end- 
less series  of  problems,  and  should  be  continued 
along  with  other  studies  for  years,  may  throughout 
be  advantageously  accompanied  by  those  concrete 
applications  of  its  principles  which  serve  as  its  pre- 
liminary. After  the  cube,  the  octahedron,  and  the 
various  forms  of  pyramid  and  prism  have  been 
mastered,  may  come  the  more  complex  regular 
bodies — the  dodecahedron,  and  the  icosahedron — 
to  construct  which  out  of  single  pieces  of  cardboard 
requires  considerable  ingenuity.  From  these,  the 
transition  may  naturally  be  made  to  such  modified 


152  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

forms  of  the  regular  bodies  as  are  met  with  in  crys- 
tals— the  truncated  cube,  the  cube  with  its  dihedral 
as  well  as  its  solid  angles  truncated,  the  octahedron 
and  the  various  prisms  as  similarly  modified;  in 
imitating  which  numerous  forms  assumed  by  dif- 
ferent metals  and  salts,  an  acquaintance  with  the 
leading  facts  of  mineralogy  will  be  incidentally 
gained.  After  long  continuance  in  exercises  of 
this  kind,  rational  geometry,  as  may  be  supposed, 
presents  no  obstacles.  Constantly  habituated  to 
contemplate  relationships  of  form  and  quantity,  and 
vaguely  perceiving  from  time  to  time  the  necessity 
of  certain  results  as  reached  by  certain  means,  the 
pupil  comes  to  regard  the  demonstrations  of  Eu- 
clid as  the  missing  supplements  to  his  familiar  prob- 
lems. Ilis  well-disciplined  faculties  enable  him 
easily  to  master  its  successive  propositions,  and  to 
appreciate  their  value;  and  he  has  the  occasional 
gratification  of  finding  some  of  his  own  methods 
proved  to  be  true.  Thus  he  enjoys  what  is  to  the 
unprepared  a  dreary  task.  It  only  remains  to  add, 
that  his  mind  will  presently  arrive  at  a  fit  condition 
for  that  most  valuable  of  all  exercises  for  the  re- 
flective faculties — the  making  of  original  demon- 
strations. Such  theorems  as  those  appended  to  the 
successive  books  of  the  Messrs.  Chambers'  Euclid, 
will  soon  become  practicable  to  him;  and  in  prov- 


COUESE  OF  THE  NATURAL  METHOD.   I53 

ing  them  the  process  of  self-development  will  be 
not  intellectual  only,  but  moral. 

To  continue  much  further  these  suggestions 
would  be  to  write  a  detailed  treatise  on  education, 
which  we  do  not  purpose.  The  foregoing  outlines 
of  plans  for  exercising  the  perceptions  in  early 
childhood  for  conducting  object-lessons  for  teach- 
ing drawing  and  geometry,  must  be  considered  as 
roughly-sketched  illustrations  of  the  method  dic- 
tated by  the  general  principles  previously  specified. 
We  believe  that  on  examination  they  will  be  found 
not  only  to  progress  from  the  simple  to  the  complex, 
from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract,  from  the  empiri- 
cal to  the  rational;  but  to  satisfy  the  further  re- 
quirements that  education  shall  be  a  repetition  of 
civilization  in  little,  that  it  shall  be  as  much  as  pos- 
sible a  process  of  self -evolution,  and  that  it  shall  be 
pleasurable.  That  there  should  be  one  type  of 
method  capable  of  satisfying  ^11  these  conditionsj 
tends  alike  to  verify  the  conditions,  and  to  prove 
that  type  of  method  the  right  one.  And  when  we 
add  that  this  method  is  the  logical  outcome  of  the 
tendency,  characterizing  all  modern  systems  of  in- 
struction— that  it  is  but  an  adoption  in  full  of  the 
method  of  nature  which  they  adopt  partially — that 
it  displays  this  complete  adoption  of  the  method  of 

nature,  not  only  by  conforming  to  the  above  prin- 
21 


154  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

ciples,  but  by  following  the  suggestions  which  the 
unfolding  mind  itself  gives,  facilitating  its  spon- 
taneous activities,  and  so  aiding  the  developments 
which  nature  is  busy  with — when  we  add  this,  there 
seems  abundant  reason  to  conclude,  that  the  mode 
of  procedure  above  exemplified,  closely  approxi- 
mates to  the  true  one. 

A  few  paragraphs  must  be  appended  in  further 
inculcation  of  the  two  general  principles,  alike  the 
most  important  and  the  least  attended  to :  we  mean 
the  principle  that  throughout  youth,  as  in  early 
childhood  and  in  maturity,  the  process  shall  be  one 
of  self-instruction;  and  the  obverse  principle,  that 
the  mental  action  induced  by  this  process  shall  be 
throughout  intrinsically  grateful.  If  progression 
from  simple  to  complex,  and  from  concrete  to  ab- 
stract, be  considered  the  essential  requirements  as 
dictated  by  abstract  psychology,  then  do  these  re- 
quirements that  knowledge  shall  be  self-mastered, 
and  pleasurably  mastered,  become  the  tests  by 
which  we  may  judge  whether  the  dictates  of  ab- 
stract psychology  are  being  fulfilled.  If  the  first 
embody  the  leading  generalizations  of  the  science 
of  mental  growth,  the  last  are  the  chief  canons  of 
the  art  of  fostering  mental  growth.  For  manifest- 
ly if  the  steps  in  our  curriculum  are  so  arranged 


ADVANTAGES  OF  SELF-EVOLUTION.        I55 

that  they  can  be  successively  ascended  by  the  pnpil 
himself  with  little  or  no  help,  they  must  correspond 
with  the  stages  of  evolution  in  his  faculties;  and 
manifestly  if  the  successive  achievements  of  these 
steps  are  intrinsically  gratifying  to  him,  it  follows 
that  they  require  no  more  than  a  normal  exercise 
of  his  powers. 

But  the  making  education  a  process  of  self- 
evolution  has  other  advantages  than  this  of  keeping 
our  lessons  in  the  right  order.  In  the  first  place,  it 
guarantees  a  vividness  and  permanency  of  impres- 
sion which  the  usual  methods  can  never  produce. 
Any  piece  of  knowledge  which  the  pupil  has  him- 
self acquired,  any  problem  wdiicli  he  has  himself 
solved,  becomes  by  virtue  of  the  conquest  much 
more  thoroughly  his  than  it  could  else  be.  The 
preliminary  activity  of  mind  which  his  success  im- 
plies, the  concentration  of  thought  necessary  to  it, 
and  the  excitement  consequent  on  his  triumph,  con- 
spire to  register  all  the  facts  in  his  memory  in  a  way 
that  no  mere  information  heard  from  a  teacher, 
or  read  in  a  school-book,  can  be  registered.  Even 
if  he  fails,  the  tension  to  wdiicli  his  faculties  have 
been  wound  up  insures  his  remembrance  of  the 
solution  when  given  to  him,  better  than  half  a 
dozen  repetitions  would.  Observe  again,  that  this 
discipline  necessitates  a  continuous  organization  of 


15G  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

the  knowledge  he  requires.  It  is  in  the  very  nature 
of  facts  and  inferences,  assimilated  in  tliis  normal 
manner,  that  they  successively  become  the  prem- 
isses of  further  conclusions, — the  means  of  solving 
still  further  questions.  The  solution  of  yesterday's 
problem  helps  the  pupil  in  mastering  to-day's. 
Thus  the  knowledge  is  turned  into  faculty  as  soon 
as  it  is  taken  in,  and  forthwith  aids  in  the  general 
function  of  thinking — does  not  lie  merely  written  in 
the  jDagcs  of  an  internal  library,  as  when  rote-learnt. 
Mark  further,  the  importance  of  the  moral  culture 
which  this  constant  self-help  involves.  Courage 
in  attacking  difficulties,  patient  concentration  of 
the  attention,  perseverance  through  failures — these 
are  characteristics  which  after-life  specially  re- 
quires; and  these  are  characteristics  which  this  sys- 
tem of  making  the  mind  work  for  its  food  specially 
produces.  That  it  is  thoroughly  practicable  to 
carry  out  instruction  after  this  fashion  we  can  our- 
selves testify ;  having  been  in  youth  thus  led  to  suc- 
cessively solve  the  comparatively  complex  problems 
of  Perspective.  And  that  leading  teachers  have 
been  gradually  tending  in  this  direction  is  indicated 
alike  in  the  saying  of  Fellenberg,  that  "  the  indi- 
vidual, independent  activity  of  the  pupil  is  of  much 
greater  importance  than  the  ordinary  busy  officious- 
ness  of  many  who  assume  the  office  of  educators;  " 


PROMOTED  BY  PLEASURABLE  FEELING.   157 

in  the  opinion  of  Horace  Mann,  that  "  unfortunate- 
ly education  amongst  us  at  present  consists  too 
much  in  telling,  not  in  training;  "  and  in  the  re- 
mark of  M.  Marcel,  that  "  what  the  learner  discov- 
ers by  mental  exertion  is  better  known  than  what 
is  told  to  him." 

Similarly  with  the  correlative  requirement,  that 
the  method  of  culture  pursued  shall  be  one  produc- 
tive of  an  intrinsically  happy  activity, — an  activity 
not  happy  in  virtue  of  extrinsic  rewards  to  be  ob- 
tained, but  in  virtue  of  its  own  healthfulness. 
Conformity  to  this  requirement  not  only  guards  us 
against  thwarting  the  normal  process  of  evolution, 
but  incidentally  secures  positive  benefits  of  impor- 
tance. Unless  we  are  to  return  to  an  ascetic  moral- 
ity, the  maintenance  of  youthful  happiness  must 
be  considered  in  itself  a  worthy  aim.  !N^ot  to  dwell 
upon  this,  however,  we  go  on  to  remark  that  a  pleas- 
urable state  of  feeling  is  far  more  favourable  to  in- 
tellectual action  than  one  of  indifference  or  disgust. 
Every  one  knows  that  things  read,  heard,  or  seen 
with  interest,  are  better  remembered  than  those 
read,  heard,  or  seen  with  apathy.  In  the  one  case 
the  faculties  appealed  to  are  actively  occupied  with 
the  subject  presented;  in  the  other  they  are  inac- 
tively occupied  with  it;  and  the  attention  is  contin- 
ually drawn  away  after  more  attractive  thoughts. 


158  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

Hence  the  impressions  are  respectively  strong  and 
weak.  Moreover,  the  intellectual  listlessness  which 
a  pupil's  lack  of  interest  in  any  study  involves,  is 
further  complicated  hy  his  anxiety,  by  his  fear  of 
consequences,  which  distract  his  attention,  and  in- 
crease the  difficulty  he  finds  in  bringing  his  facul- 
ties to  bear  upon  these  facts  that  are  repugnant  to 
them.  Clearly,  therefore,  the  efficiency  of  any  in- 
tellectual action  will,  other  things  equal,  be  pro- 
portionate to  the  gratification  with  which  it  is  per- 
formed. 

It  should  be  considered  also,  that  important 
moral  consequences  depend  upon  the  habitual  pleas- 
ure or  pain  which  daily  lessons  produce.  No  one 
can  compare  the  faces  and  manners  of  two  boys — 
the  one  made  happy  by  mastering  interesting  sub- 
jects, and  the  other  made  miserable  by  disgust  with 
his  studies,  by  consequent  failure,  by  cold  looks,  by 
threats,  by  punishment — without  seeing  that  the 
disposition  of  the  one  is  being  benefited,  and  that 
of  the  other  greatly  injured.  Whoever  has  marked 
the  effect  of  intellectual  success  upon  the  mind,  and 
the  power  of  the  mind  over  the  body,  will  see  that 
in  the  one  case  both  temper  and  health  are  favour- 
ably affected ;  whilst  in  the  other  there  is  danger  of 
permanent  moroseness,  of  permanent  timidity,  and 
even  of  permanent  constitutional  depression.     To 


PROMOTED  BY  PLEASURABLE   FEELIKG.    I59 

all  which  considerations  we  must  add  the  further 
one,  that  the  relationship  between  teachers  and 
their  pupils  is,  other  things  equal,  rendered  friendly 
and  influential,  or  antagonistic  and  powerless,  ac- 
cording as  the  system  of  culture  produces  happiness 
or  misery.  Human  beings  are  at  the  mercy  of  their 
associated  ideas.  A  daily  minister  of  pain  cannot 
fail  to  be  regarded  with  a  secret  dislike,  and  if  he 
causes  no  emotions  but  painful  ones,  will  inevitably 
be  hated.  Conversely,  he  who  constantly  aids  chil- 
dren to  their  ends,  hourly  provides  them  with  the 
satisfaction  of  conquest,  hourly  encourages  them 
through  their  difficulties  and  sympathizes  in  their 
successes,  cannot  fail  to  be  liked;  nay,  if  his  behav- 
iour is  consistent  throughout,  must  be  loved.  And 
when  we  remember  how  efficient  and  benign  is  the 
control  of  a  master  who  is  felt  to  be  a  friend,  when 
compared  with  the  control  of  one  who  is  looked 
upon  with  aversion,  or  at  best  indifference,  we  may 
infer  that  the  indirect  advantages  of  conducting 
education  on  the  happiness  principle  do  not  fall 
far  short  of  the  direct  ones.  To  all  who  question 
the  possibility  of  acting  out  the  system  here  advo- 
cated, we  reply  as  before,-  that  not  only  does  theory 
point  to  it,  but  experience  commends  it.  To  the 
many  verdicts  of  distinguished  teachers  who  since 
Pestalozzi's  time  have  testified  this,  may  be  here 


160  INTELLECTUAL  EDUCATION. 

added  that  of  Professor  Pillans,  who  asserts  that 
"  where  young  people  are  taught  as  they  ought  to 
be,  they  are  quite  as  happy  in  school  as  at  play, 
seldom  less  delighted,  nay,  often  more,  with  the 
well-directed  exercise  of  their  mental  energies,  than 
with  that  of  their  muscular  powers." 

As  suggesting  a  final  reason  for  making  educa- 
tion a  process  of  self-instruction,  and  by  conse- 
quence a  process  of  pleasurable  instruction,  we  may 
advert  to  the  fact  that,  in  proportion  as  it  is  made 
so,  is  there  a  probability  that  education  will  not 
cease  when  school-days  end.  As  long  as  the  acqui- 
sition of  knowledge  is  rendered  habitually  repug- 
nant, so  long  will  there  be  a  prevailing  tendency  to 
discontinue  it  when  free  from  the  coercion  of  par- 
ents and  masters.  And  when  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge  has  been  rendered  habitually  gratifying, 
then  will  there  be  as  prevailing  a  tendency  to  con- 
tinue, without  superintendence,  that  same  self-cul- 
ture previously  carried  on  under  superintendence. 
These  results  are  inevitable.  While  the  laws  of 
mental  association  remain  true — while  men  dislike 
the  things  and  places  that  suggest  painful  recollec- 
tions, and  delight  in  those  which  call  to  mind  by- 
gone pleasures — painful  lessons  will  make  knowl- 
edge repulsive,  and  pleasurable  lessons  will  make  it 
attractive.     The  men  to  whom  in  boyhood  infor- 


SELF-CULTURE  SELF-PERPETUATING.      161 

mation  came  in  dreary  tasks  along  with  threats  of 
punishment,  and  who  were  never  led  into  habits  of 
independent  inquiry,  are  unlikely  to  be  students  in 
after  years;  while  those  to  whom  it  came  in  the 
natural  forms,  at  the  proper  times,  and  who  remem- 
ber its  facts  as  not  only  interesting  in  themselves, 
but  as  the  occasions  of  a  long  series  of  gratifying 
successes,  are  likely  to  continue  through  life  that 
self-instruction  commenced  in  youth. 


CHAPTER   III. 

MORAL    EDUCATION. 

Strangely  enough,  the  most  glaring  defect  in 
our  programmes  of  education  is  entirely  overlooked. 
AVhile  much  is  being  done  in  the  detailed  improve- 
ment of  our  systems  in  respect  both  of  matter  and 
manner,  the  most  pressing  desideratum  has  not  yet 
been  even  recognised  as  a  desideratum.  To  pre- 
pare the  young  for  the  duties  of  life  is  tacitly  ad- 
mitted by  all  to  be  the  end  which  parents  and 
schoolmasters  should  have  in  view;  and  happily  the 
value  of  the  things  taught,  and  the  goodness  of  the 
method  followed  in  teaching  them,  are  now  ostensi- 
bly judged  by  their  fitness  to  this  end.  The  pro- 
priety of  substituting  for  an  exclusively  classical 
training  a  training  in  which  the  modern  languages 
shall  have  a  share,  is  argued  on  this  ground.  The 
necessity  of  increasing  the  amount  of  science  is 
urged  for  like  reasons.  But  though  some  care  is 
taken  to  fit  youth  of  both  sexes  for  society  and  citi- 
zenship, .no  care  whatever  is  taken  to  fit  them  for 
163 


ART  OF  EDUCATION.  163 

the  still  more  important  position  they  will  ultimate- 
ly have  to  fill — the  position  of  parents.  While  it 
is  seen  that  for  the  purpose  of  gaining  a  livelihood, 
an  elaborate  preparation  is  needed,  it  appears  to  he 
thought  that  for  the  bringing  up  of  children,  no 
preparation  whatever  is  needed.  While  many 
years  are  spent  by  a  boy  in  gaining  knowledge,  of 
which  the  chief  value  is  that  it  constitutes  '  the  edu- 
cation of  a  gentleman; '  and  while  many  years  are 
spent  by  a  girl  in  those  decorative  acquirements 
which  fit  her  for  evening  parties;  not  an  hour  is 
spent  by  either  of  them  for  that  gravest  of  all  re- 
sponsibilities— the  management  of  a  family.  Is  it 
that  this  responsibility  is  but  a  remote  contingency? 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  certain  to  devolve  on  nine 
out  of  ten.  Is  it  that  the  discharge  of  it  is  easy? 
Certainly  not:  of  all  functions  which  the  adult  has 
to  fulfil  this  is  the  most  difficult.  Is  it  that  each 
may  be  trusted  by  self-instruction  to  fit  himself,  or 
herself,  for  the  office  of  parent?  Xo:  not  only  is 
the  need  for  such  self-instruction  unrecognised,  but 
the  complexity  of  the  subject  renders  it  the  one  of 
all  others  in  which  self-instruction  is  least  likely  to 
succeed.  Xo  rational  plea  can  be  put  forward  for 
leaving  the  xVrt  of  Education  out  of  our  curric- 
ulum. Whether  as  bearing  upon  the  happiness 
of  parents  themselyes,  or  whether  as  affecting  the 


1G4  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

characters  and  lives  of  their  children  and  remote 
descendants,  we  must  admit  that  a  knowled<2;e  of 
the  right  methods  of  juvenile  culture,  physical, 
intellectual,  and  moral,  is  a  knowledge  second  to 
none  in  importance.  This  topic  should  occupy  the 
highest  and  last  place  in  the  course  of  instruction 
passed  through  by  each  man  and  woman.  As  phys- 
ical maturity  is  marked  by  the  ability  to  produce 
offspring,  so  mental  maturity  is  marked  by  the  abil- 
ity to  train  those  offspring.  TJie  subject  which  in- 
volves all  other  subjects^  and  therefore  the  subject  in 
which  the  education  of  every  one  should  culminate, 
is  the  Theory  and  Practice  of  Education. 

In  the  absence  of  this  preparation,  the  manage- 
ment of  children,  and  more  especially  the  moral 
management,  is  lamentably  bad.  Parents  either 
never  think  about  the  matter  at  all,  or  else  their 
conclusions  are  crude  and  inconsistent.  In  most 
cases,  and  especially  on  the  part  of  mothers,  the 
treatment  adopted  on  every  occasion  is  that  which 
the  impulse  of  the  moment  prompts:  it  springs  not 
from  any  reasoned-out  conviction  as  to  what  will 
most  conduce  to  the  child's  welfare,  but  merely  ex- 
presses the  passing  parental  feelings,  whether  good 
or  ill;  and  varies  from  hour  to  hour  as  these  feel- 
ings vary.  Or  if  these  blind  dictates  of  passion  are 
sujDplemented  by  any  definite  doctrines  and  meth- 


NEGLECT   OP  THE  SUBJECT.  165 

ods,  they  are  those  that  have  been  handed  down 
from  the  past,  or  those  suggested  by  the  remem- 
brances of  childhood,  or  those  adopted  from  nurses 
and  servants — methods  devised  not  by  the  enhght- 
enment,  but  by  the  ignorance  of  the  time.  Com- 
menting on  the  chaotic  state  of  opinion  and  prac- 
tice relative  to  family  government,  Richter 
writes : — 

"If  the  secret  variances  of  a  large  class  of  ordinary 
fathers  were  brought  to  light,  and  laid  down  as  a  plan  of 
studies,  and  reading  catalogued  for  a  moral  education,  they 
would  run  somewhat  after  this  fashion: — In  the  first  hour 
'  pure  morality  must  be  read  to  the  child,  either  by  myself 
or  the  tutor  ; '  in  the  second,  '  mixed  morality,  or  that 
which  may  be  applied  to  one's  own  advantage  ; '  in  the 
thu-d,  '  do  you  not  see  that  your  father  does  so  and  so  ? ' 
in  the  fourth,  'you  are  little,  and  this  is  only  fit  for 
grown-ujj  |>eople  ; '  in  the  fifth,  '  the  chief  matter  is  that 
you  should  succeed  in  the  world,  and  become  something  in 
the  state  ; '  in  the  sixth,  '  not  the  temporary,  but  the  eternal, 
determines  the  worth  of  a  man  ; '  in  the  seventh,  '  therefore 
rather  suffer  injustice,  and  be  kind  ; '  in  the  eighth,  '  but 
defend  yourself  bravely  if  any  one  attack  you;'  in  the 
ninth,  '  do  not  make  a  noise,  dear  child  ; '  in  the  tenth,  '  a 
boy  must  not  sit  so  quiet  ; '  in  the  eleventh,  '  you  must  obey 
your  parents  better  ; '  in  the  twelfth,  '  and  educate  your- 
self.' So  by  the  hourly  change  of  his  principles,  the  father 
conceals  their  untenableness  and  onesidedness.  As  for  his 
wife,  she  is  neither  like  him,  nor  yet  like  that  harlequin 
who  came  on  to  the  stage  with  a  bundle  of  papers  under 
each  arm,  and  answered  to  the  inquiry,  what  he  had  under 
his  right  arm,  '  orders,'  and  to  what  he  had  under  his  left 


IGG  MORAL   EDUCATION. 

arm,  'counter-orders.'  But  the  mother  mi^ht  be  much 
better  compared  to  a  giant  Briareus,  who  had  a  hundred 
arms,  and  a  bundle  of  papers  under  each." 

This  state  of  things  is  not  to  be  readily  changed. 
Generations  must  pass  before  any  great  ameliora- 
tion of  it  can  be  expected.  Like  political  constitu- 
tions, educational  systems  are  not  made,  but  grow; 
and  within  brief  periods  growth  is  insensible. 
Slow,  however,  as  must  be  any  improvement,  even 
that  improvement  implies  the  use  of  means;  and 
among  the  means  is  discussion. 

We  are  not  among  those  who  believe  in  Tx)rd 
Palmerston's  dogma,  that  '*  all  children  are  born 
good."  On  the  whole,  the  opposite  dogma,  unten- 
able as  it  is,  seems  to  us  less  wide  of  the  truth. 
Nor  do  we  agree  with  those  who  think  that,  by 
skilful  discipline,  children  may  be  made  altogether 
what  they  should  be.  Contrariwise,  we  are  satis- 
fied that  though  imperfections  of  nature  may  be  di- 
minished by  wise  management,  they  cannot  be  re- 
moved by  it.  The  notion  that  an  ideal  humanity 
might  be  forthwith  produced  by  a  perfect  system 
of  education,  is  near  akin  to  that  shadowed  forth  in 
the  poems  of  Shelley,  that  would  mankind  give  up 
their  old  institutions,  prejudices,  and  errors,  all  the 
evils  in  the  world  would  at  once  disappear:  neither 


ITS  LIMITS  AND  DIFFICULTIES.  167 

notion  being  acceptable  to  such  as  have  dispassion- 
ately studied  human  affairs. 

A^'ot  that  we  are  without  sympathy  with  those 
who  entertain  these  too  sanguine  hopes.  Enthu- 
siasm, pushed  even  to  fanaticism,  is  a  useful  motive- 
power — perhaps  an  indispensable  one.  It  is  clear 
that  the  ardent  politician  would  never  undergo  the 
labours  and  make  the  sacrifices  he  does,  did  he  not 
believe  that  the  reform  he  fights  for  is  the  one  thing 
needful.  But  for  his  conviction  that  drunkenness 
is  the  root  of  almost  all  social  evils,  the  teetotaller 
would  agitate  far  less  energetically.  In  philan- 
thropy as  in  other  things  great  advantage  results 
from  division  of  labour;  and  that  there  may  be 
division   of   labour,    each    class   of  philanthropists 

must  be  more  or  less  subordinated  to  its  function 

must  have  an  exaggerated  faith  in  its  work. 
Hence,  of  those  who  regard  education,  intellectual 
or  moral,  as  the  panacea,  we  may  say  that  their  un- 
due expectations  are  not  without  use;  and  that  per- 
haps it  is  part  of  the  beneficent  order  of  things  that 
their  confidence  cannot  be  shaken. 

Even  were  it  true,  however,  that  by  some  pos- 
sible system  of  moral  government  children  could 
be  moulded  into  the  desired  form;  and  even  could 
every  parent  be  duly  indoctrinated  with  this  sys- 
tem; we  should  still  be  far  from  achieving  the  ob- 


168  MORAL   EDUCATION. 

ject  in  view.  It  is  forgotten  that  the  carrying  out 
of  any  such  system  presupposes,  on  the  part  of 
adults,  a  degree  of  intelligence,  of  goodness,  of  self- 
control,  possessed  by  no  one.  The  great  error  made 
by  .those  who  discuss  questions  of  juvenile  disci- 
pline, is  in  ascribing  all  the  faults  and  difficulties 
to  the  children,  and  none  to  the  j)arents.  The  cur- 
rent assumption  respecting  family  government,  as 
rdspecting  national  government,  is,  that  llie  vir- 
tues are  with  the  rulers  and  the  vices  with  the  ruled. 
Judging  by  educational  theories,  men  and  women 
are  entirely  transfigured  in  the  domestic  relation. 
The  citizens  we  do  business  with,  the  people  we 
meet  in  the  world,  wo  all  know  to  be  very  imperfect 
creatures.  In  the  daily  scandals,  in  the  quarrels 
of  friends,  in  bankruptcy  disclosures,  in  lawsuits,  in 
police  reports,  we  have  constantly  thrust  before  us 
the  pervading  selfishness,  dishonesty,  brutality. 
Yet  when  we  criticise  nursery  management,  and 
canvass  the  misbehaviour  of  juveniles,  we  habitu- 
ally take  for  granted  that  these  culpable  men  and 
women  are  free  from  moral  delinquency  in  the 
treatment  of  their  offspring!  So  far  is  this  from 
the  truth,  that  we  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  to 
parental  misconduct  is  traceable  a  great  part  of 
the  domestic  disorder  commonly  ascribed  to  the 
perversity   of   children.     We   do   not   assert   this 


DEFICIENCIES  OF   PARENTS.  IQQ 

of  the  more  sympathetic  and  self-restrained,  among 
whom  we  hope  most  of  our  readers  may  be  chissed, 
but  we  assert  it  of  the  mass.  What  kind  of  moral 
discipline  is  to  be  expected  of  a  mother  who,  time 
after  time,  angrily  shakes  her  infant  because  it  will 
not  suckle  her,  which  we  once  saw  a  mother  do? 
How  much  love  of  justice  and  generosity  is  likely 
to  be  instilled  by  a  father  who,  on  having  his  at- 
tention drawn  by  his  child's  scream  to  the  fact  that 
its  finger  is  jammed  between  the  window  sash  and 
the  sill,  forthwith  begins  to  beat  the  child  instead  of 
releasing  it?  Yet  that  tliere  are  such  fathers  is 
testified  to  us  by  an  eye-witness.  Or,  to  take  a  still 
stronger  case,  also  vouched  for  by  direct  testimony 
— what  are  the  educational  prospects  of  the  boy 
who,  on  being  taken  home  with  a  dislocated  thigh, 
is  saluted  with  a  castigation?  It  is  true  that  these 
are  extreme  instances — instances  exhibiting  in  hu- 
man beings  that  blind  instinct  which  impels  brutes 
to  destroy  the  weakly  and  injured  of  their  own  race. 
But  extreme  though  they  are,  they  typify  feelings 
and  conduct  daily  observable  in  many  families. 
Who  has  not  repeatedly  seen  a  child  slapped  by 
nurse  or  parent  for  a  fretfulness  probably  resulting 
from  bodily  derangement?  Who,  when  watch- 
ing a  mother  snatch  up  a  fallen  little  one,  has  not 

often  traced,  both  in  the  rough  manner  and  in  the 
23 


170  MORAL   EDUCATION. 

sharply-uttered  exclamation — '  You  stupid  little 
thing!  ' — an  irascibility  foretelling  endless  future 
squabbles?  Is  there  not  in  the  harsh  tones  in 
which  a  father  bids  his  children  be  quiet,  evidence 
of  a  deficient  fellow-feeling  with  them?  Are  not 
the  constant,  and  often  quite  needless,  thwartings 
that  the  young  experience — the  injunctions  to  sit 
still,  which  an  active  child  cannot  obey  without  suf- 
fering great  nervous  irritation,  the  commands  not 
to  look  out  of  the  window  when  travelling  by  rail- 
way, which  on  a  child  of  any  intelligence  entails 
serious  deprivation — are  not  these  thwartings,  we 
ask,  signs  of  a  terrible  lack  of  sympathy?  The 
truth  is,  that  the  difficulties  of  moral  education  are 
necessarily  of  dual  origin — necessarily  result  from 
the  combined  faults  of  parents  and  children.  If 
hereditary  transmission  is  a  law  of  nature,  as  every 
naturalist  knows  it  to  be,  and  as  our  daily  remarks 
and  current  proverbs  admit  it  to  be;  then  on  the 
average  of  cases,  the  defects  of  children  mirror  the 
defects  of  their  parents; — on  the  average  of  cases, 
we  say,  because,  complicated  as  the  results  are  by 
the  transmitted  traits  of  remoter  ancestors,  the  cor- 
respondence is  not  special,  but  only  general.  And 
if,  on  the  average  of  cases,  this  inheritance  of 
defects  exists,  then  the  evil  passions  which  parents 
have  to  check  in  their  children  imply  like  evil 


MUST  DEPEND  UPON  GENERAL  IMPROVEMENT.  171 

passions  in  themselves:  hidden,  it  may  be,  from 
the  public  eye;  or  perhaps  obscured  by  other  feel- 
ings; but  still  there.  Evidently,  therefore,  the 
general  practice  of  any  ideal  •  system  of  discipline 
is  hopeless:  parents  are  not  good  enough. 

Moreover,  even  were  there  methods  by  which 
the  desired  end  could  be  at  once  effected,  and  even 
had  fathers  and  mothers  sufficient  insight,  sym- 
pathy, and  self-command  to  employ  these  methods 
consistently,  it  might  still  be  contended  that  it 
would  be  of  no  use  to  reform  family  discipline  faster 
than  other  things  are  reformed.  AVhat  is  it  that 
we  aim  to  do?  Is  it  not  that  education  of  what- 
ever kind  has  for  its  proximate  end  to  prepare  a 
child  for  the  business  of  life — to  produce  a  citizen 
who,  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  well  conducted,  is 
also  able  to  make  his  way  in  the  world?  And  does 
not  making  his  way  in  the  world  (by  which  we 
mean,  not  the  acquirement  of  wealth,  Imt  of  the 
means  requisite  for  properly  bringing  up  a  family) 
— does  not  this  imply  a  certain  fitness  for  the  world 
as  it  now  is?  And  if  by  any  system  of  culture  an 
ideal  human  being  could  be  produced,  is  it  not 
doubtful  whether  he  would  be  fit  for  the  world  as 
it  now  is?  May  we  not,  on  the  contrary,  suspect 
that  his  too  keen  sense  of  rectitude,  and  too  elevated 
standard  of  conduct,  would  make  life  alike  intoler- 


172  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

able  and  impossible?  And  however  admirable  the 
results  might  be,  considered  individually,  would  it 
not  be  self-defeating  in  so  far  as  society  and  poster- 
ity are  concerned?  It  may,  we  think,  be  argued 
with  much  reason,  that  as  in  a  nation  so  in  a  family, 
the  kind  of  government  is,  on  the  whole,  about  as 
good  as  the  general  state  of  human  nature  permits  it 
to  be.  It  may  be  said  that  in  the  one  case,  as  in  the 
other,  the  average  character  of  the  people  deter- 
mines the  quality  of  the  control  exercised.  It  may 
be  inferred  that  in  both  cases  amelioration  of  the 
average  character  leads  to  an  amelioration  of  sys- 
tem; and  further,  that  were  it  possible  to  amelio- 
rate the  system  without  the  average  character  being 
first  ameliorated,  evil,  rather  than  good,  would  fol- 
low. It  may  be  urged  that  such  degree  of  harsh- 
ness as  children  now  experience  from  their  parents 
and  teachers,  is  but  a  preparation  for  that  greater 
harshness  which  they  will  meet  with  on  entering 
the  world ;  and  that  were  it  possible  for  parents  and 
teachers  to  behave  towards  them  with  perfect 
equity  and  entire  sympathy,  it  would  but  intensify 
the  sufferings  which  the  selfishness  of  men  must,  in 
after  life,  inflict  on  them.* 

*  This  is  the  plea  put  in  by  some  for  the  roiigh  treatment 
experienced  by  boys  at  our  public  schools  ;  where,  as  it  is  said, 
they  are  introduced  to  a  miniature  world  whose  imperfections 


LIMITED  BY  THE  STATE  OF  SOCIETY.      I73 

"  But  does  not  this  prove  too  much?  "  some  one 
will  ask.  "If  no  system  of  moral  culture  can 
forthwith  make  children  altogether  what  they 
should  be;  if,  even  were  there  a  system  that  would 
do  this,  existing  parents  are  too  imperfect  to  carry 
it  out;  and  if  even  could  such  a  system  be  success- 
fully carried  out,  its  results  would  be  disastrously 
incongruous  with  the  present  state  of  society;  does 
it  not  follow  that  a  reform  in  the  system  now  in 
use  is  neither  practicable  nor  desirable?  "  l^o.  It 
merely  follows  that  reform  in  domestic  government 
must  go  on,  pari  passu,  with  other  reforms.  It 
merely  follows  that  methods  of  discipline  neither 
can  be  nor  should  be  ameliorated,  except  by  instal- 
ments. It  merely  follows  that  the  dictates  of  ab- 
stract rectitude  will,  in  practice,  inevitably  be  sub- 

and  hardships  prepare  them  for  those  of  the  real  world:  and 
it  must  be  admitted  that  the  plea  has  some  force.  But  it  is  a 
very  insufficient  plea.  For  whereas  domestic  and  school  dis- 
cipline, though  they  should  not  be  very  much  better  than  the 
discipline  of  adult  life,  should  at  any  rate  be  somewhat  better; 
the  discipline  which  boys  meet  with  at  Eton,  Winchester, 
Harrow,  &c.,  is  much  worse  than  that  of  adult  life — much 
more  unjust,  cruel,  brutal.  Instead  of  being  an  aid  to  human 
progress,  which  all  culture  should  be,  the  culture  of  our  public 
schools,  by  accustoming  boys  to  a  despotic  form  of  govern- 
ment and  an  intercourse  regulated  by  brute  force,  tends  to  fit 
them  for  a  lower  state  of  society  than  that  which  exists.  And 
chiefly  recruited  as  our  legislature  is  from  among  those  who 
are  brought  up  at  these  schools,  this  barbarizing  influence 
becomes  a  serious  hindrance  to  national  progress. 


174  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

ordinated  by  the  present  state  of  human  nature — 
by  the  imperfections  alike  of  children,  of  parents, 
and  of  society;  and  can  only  be  better  fultilled  as 
the  general  character  becomes  better. 

"  At  any  rate,  then,"  may  rejoin  our  critic,  ''  it 
is  clearly  useless  to  set  up  any  ideal  standard  of 
family  discipline.  There  can  be  no  advantage  in 
elaborating  and  recommending  methods  that  are  in 
advance  of  the  time."  Again  we  must  contend  for 
the  contrary.  Just  as  in  the  case  of  political  gov- 
ernment, though  pure  rectitude  may  be  at  present 
impracticable,  it  is  requisite  to  know  where  the 
right  lies,  so  that  the  changes  we  make  may  be 
towards  the  right  instead  of  away  from  it;  so  in 
the  case  of  domestic  government,  an  ideal  must  be 
upheld,  that  there  may  be  gradual  approximations 
to  it.  We  need  fear  no  evil  consequences  from  the 
maintenance  of  such  an  ideal.  On  the  average  the 
constitutional  conservatism  of  mankind  is  always 
strong  enough  to  prevent  a  too  rapid  change.  So 
admirable  are  the  arrangements  of  things  that  until 
men  have  grown  up  to  the  level  of  a  higher  belief, 
they  cannot  receive  it:  nominally,  they  may  hold 
it,  but  not  virtually.  And  even  w^hen  the  truth 
gets  recognised,  the  obstacles  to  conformity  with  it 
are  so  persistent  as  to  outlive  the  patience  of  phi- 
lanthropists and  even  philosophers.     We  may  be 


THE   METHOD   OF  NATURE.  l^S 

quite  sure,  therefore,  tliat  tlie  many  difficulties 
standing  in  the  way  of  a  normal  government  of 
children,  will  always  put  an  adequate  check  upon 
the  efforts  to  realize  it. 

With  these  preliminary  explanations,  let  us  go 
on  to  consider  the  true  aims  and  methods  of  moral 
education — moral  education,  strictly  so  called,  we 
mean;  for  we  do  not  propose  to  enter  upon  the 
question  of  religious  education  as  an  aid  to  the 
education  exclusively  moral.  This  we  admit  as  a 
topic  better  dealt  with  separately.  After  a  few 
pages  devoted  to  the  settlement  of  general  prin- 
ciples, during  the  perusal  of  which  we  bespeak  the 
reader's  patience,  we  shall  aim  by  illustrations  to 
make  clear  the  right  methods  of  parental  behaviour 
in  the  hourly  occurring  difficulties  of  family  gov- 
ernment. 

When  a  child  falls,  or  runs  its  head  against  the 
table,  it  suffers  a  pain,  the  remembrance  of  which 
tends  to  make  it  more  careful  for  the  future;  and 
by  an  occasional  repetition  of  like  experiences,  it  is 
eventually  disciplined  into  a  proper  guidance  of  its 
movements.  If  it  lays  hold  of  the  fire-bars,  thrusts 
its  finger  into  the  candle-flame,  or  spills  boiling 
water  on  any  part  of  its  skin,  the  resulting  burn  or 
scald  is  a  lesson  not  easily  forgotten.     So  deep  an 


176  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

impression  is  produced  by  one  or  two  such  events, 
that  afterwards  no  persuasion  will  induce  it  again 
to  disregard  the  laws  of  its  constitution  in  these 
ways. 

Now  in  these  and  like  cases,  Nature  illustrates 
to  us  in  the  simplest  way,  the  true  theory  and 
practice  of  moral  discipline — a  theory  and  practice 
which,  however  much  they  may  seem  to  the  suj)er- 
ficial  like  those  commonly  received,  we  shall  find  on 
examination  to  differ  from  them  very  widely. 

Observe,  in  the  first  place,  that  in  bodily  in- 
juries and  their  penalties  we  have  misconduct  and 
its  consequences  reduced  to  their  simplest  forms. 
Though,  according  to  their  popular  acceptations, 
right  and  wrong  are  words  scarcely  applicable  to 
actions  that  have  none  but  direct  bodily  effects; 
yet  whoever  considers  the  matter  will  see  that  such 
actions  must  be  as  much  classifiable  under  these 
heads  as  any  other  actions.  From  whatever  basis 
they  start,  all  theories  of  morality  agree  in  con- 
sidering that  conduct  whose  total  results,  immediate 
and  remote,  are  beneficial,  is  good  conduct;  while 
conduct  whose  total  results,  immediate  and  remote, 
are  injurious,  is  bad  conduct.  The  happiness  or 
misery  caused  by  it  are  the  ultimate  standards  by 
which  all  men  judge  of  behaviour.  We  consider 
drunkenness  wrong  because  of  the  physical  degen- 


THE  CHILD  ACTS  AND  NATURE  REACTS.  177 

eracj  and  accompanying  moral  evils  entailed  on 
the   transgressor   and   Lis   dependents.     Did    theft 
uniformly  give  pleasure  both  to  taker  and  loser,  we 
should  not  find  it  in  our  catalogue  of  sins.     Were 
it  conceivable  that  benevolent  actions  multiplied 
human  pains,  we  should  condemn  them — should 
not   consider  them   benevolent.     It   needs   but   to 
read  the  first  newsjDaper  leader,   or  listen  to  any 
conversation  touching  social  affairs,  to  see  that  acts 
of  parliament,  political  movements,  philanthropic 
agitations,  in  common  with  the  doings  of  individ- 
uals, are  judged  by  their  anticipated  results  in  mul- 
tiplying the  pleasures  or  pains  of  men.     And  if 
on  looking  on  all  secondary  superinduced  ideas,  we 
find  these  to  be  our  ultimate  tests  of  right  and 
wrong,  we  cannot  refuse  to  class  purely  physical 
actions  as  right  or  wrong  according  to  the  beneficial 
or  detrimental  results  they  produce. 

^^te,  in  the  second  place,  the  character  of  the 
punishments  by  which  these  physical  transgressions 
are  prevented.  Punishments,  we  call  them,  in 
the  absence  of  a  better  word;  for  they  are  not  pun- 
ishments in  the  literal  sense.  They  are  not  arti- 
ficial and  unnecessary  inflictions  of  pain;  but  are 
gimply  the  beneficent  checks  to  actions  that  are 
essentially  at  variance  with  bodily  welfare— checks 
in  the  absence  of  which  life  would  quickly  be  de- 


178  MORAL   EDUCATION. 

stroyed  by  bodily  injuries.  It  is  the  peculiarity  of 
these  penalties,  if  we  must  so  call  them,  that  they 
are  nothing  more  than  the  unaco'ulahle  conse- 
quences of  the  deeds  which  they  follow:  they  are 
nothing  more  than  the  i Heritable  reactions  entailed 
by  the  child's  actions. 

Let  it  be  further  borne  in  mind  that  these  pain- 
ful reactions  are  proportionate  to  the  degree  in 
which  the  organic  laws  have  been  transgressed.  A 
slight  accident  brings  a  slight  pain,  a  more  serious 
one,  a  greater  pain.  When  a  child  tumbles  over 
the  door-step,  it  is  not  ordained  that  it  shall  suflfcr 
in  excess  of  the  amount  necessary,  with  the  view 
of  making  it  still  more  cautious  than  the  necessary 
suffering  will  make  it.  But  from  its  daily  expe- 
rience it  is  left  to  learn  the  greater  or  less  penalties 
of  greater  or  less  errors ;  and  to  behave  accordingly. 

And  then  mark,  lastly,  that  these  natural  reac- 
tions which  follow  the  child's  wrong  actions,  are 
constant,  direct,  unhesitating,  and  not  to  be  es- 
caped. Xo  threats:  but  a  silent,  rigorous  perform- 
ance. If  a  child  runs  a  pin  into  its  finger,  pain 
follows.  If  it  does  it  again,  there  is  again  the  same 
result:  and  so  on  perpetually.  In  all  its  dealings 
with  surrounding  inorganic  nature  it  finds  this  un- 
swerving persistence,  which  listens  to  no  excuse, 
and  from  which  there  is  no  appeal;  and  very  soon 


NATURE'S  METHOD  WITH  ADULTS.    179 

recognising  this  stern  tliougli  beneficent  discipline, 
it  becomes  extremely  careful  not  to  transgress. 

Still  more  significant  will  these  general  truths 
appear,  when  we  remember  that  they  hold  through- 
out adult  life  as  well  as  throughout  infantine  life. 
It  is  by  an  experimentally-gained  knowledge  of  the 
natural  consequences,  that  men  and  women  are 
checked  when  they  go  wrong.  After  home  educa- 
tion has  ceased,  and  when  there  are  no  longer  par- 
ents and  teachers  to  forbid  this  or  that  kind  of 
conduct,  there  comes  into  play  a  discipline  like  that 
by  which  the  young  child  is  taught  its  first  lessons 
in  self-guidance.  If  the  youth  entering  upon  the 
business  of  life  idles  away  his  time  and  fulfils  slowly 
or  unskilfully  the  duties  entrusted  to  him,  there  by- 
and-bye  follows  the  natural  penalty:  he  is  dis- 
charged and  left  to  suffer  for  awhile  the  evils  of 
relative  poverty.  On  the  unpunctual  man,  failing 
alike  his  appointments  of  business  and  pleasure, 
there  continually  fall  the  consequent  inconven- 
iences, losses,  and  deprivations.  The  avaricious 
tradesman  who  charges  too  high  a  rate  of  profit, 
loses  his  customers,  and  so  is  checked  in  his  greedi- 
ness. Diminishing  practice  teaches  the  inattentive 
doctor  to  bestow  more  trouble  on  his  patients.  The 
too  credulous  creditor  and  the  over-sanguine  specu- 
lator alike  learn  by  the  difficulties  which  rashness 


180  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

ttntails  on  tliein,  the  necessity  of  being  more  cau- 
tious in  tlioir  engagements.  And  so  throughout 
the  life  of  every  citizen.  In  the  quotation  so  often 
made  apropos  of  these  cases — "  The  burnt  child 
dreads  the  fire  " — we  see  not  only  that  the  analogy 
between  this  social  discipline  and  Nature's  early 
discipline  of  infants  is  universally  recognised;  but 
we  also  see  an  implied  conviction  that  this  disci- 
pline is  of  the  most  efficient  kind.  Nay  more,  this 
conviction  is  not  only  implied,  but  distinctly  stated. 
Every  one  has  heard  others  confess  that  only  by 
"  dearly  bought  experience  "  had  they  been  induced 
to  give  up  some  bad  or  foolish  course  of  conduct 
formerly  pursued.  Every  one  has  heard,  in  the 
criticisms  passed  on  the  doings  of  this  spendthrift 
or  the  other  speculator,  the  remark  that  advice  w^as 
useless,  and  that  nothing  but  "  bitter  experience  " 
would  produce  any  eifect:  nothing,  that  is,  but 
suffering  the  unavoidable  consequences.  And  if 
further  proof  be  needed  that  the  penalty  of  the 
natural  reaction  is  not  only  the  most  efficient,  but 
that  no  humanly-devised  penalty  can  replace  it,  we 
have  such  further  proof  in  the  notorious  ill-success 
of  our  various  penal  systems.  Out  of  the  many 
methods  of  criminal  discipline  that  have  been  pro- 
posed and  legally  enforced,  none  have  answered  the 
expectations  of  their  advocates.     Not   only  have 


NATURE'S  METHOD  WITH  ADULTS.         181 

artificial  punishments  failed  to  produce  reformation, 
but  they  have  in  many  cases  increased  the  criminal- 
ity. The  only  successful  reformatories  are  those 
privately-established  ones  which  have  approximated 
their  regime  to  the  method  of  j^ature — which  have 
done  little  more  than  administer  the  natural  conse- 
quences of  criminal  conduct:  the  natural  conse- 
quences being,  that  by  imprisonment  or  other  re- 
straint, the  criminal  shall  have  his  liberty  of  action 
diminished  as  much  as  is  needful  for  the  safety  of 
society;  and  that  he  shall  be  made  to  maintain  him- 
self while  living  under  this  restraint.  Thus  we  see 
not  only  that  the  discipline  by  which  the  young 
child  is  so  successfully  taught  to  regulate  its  move- 
ments is  also  the  discipline  by  which  the  great  mass 
of  adults  are  kept  in  order,  and  more  or  less  im- 
proved; but  that  the  discipline  humanly-devised 
for  the  worst  adults,  fails  when  it  diverges  from  this 
divinely-ordained  discipline,  and  begins  to  succeed 
when  it  approximates  to  it. 

Have  we  not  here,  then,  the  guiding  principle 
of  moral  education?  Must  we  not  infer  that  the 
system  so  beneficent  in  its  effects,  alike  during  in- 
fancy and  maturity,  will  be  equally  beneficent 
throughout  youth?  Can  any  one  believe  that  the 
method  which  answers  so  well  in  the  first  and  the 


1S2  MORAL   EDUCATION. 

last  divisions  of  life  will  not  answer  in  the  inter- 
mediate division?  Is  it  not  manifest  that  as  ''  min- 
isters and  interpreters  of  Xature  "  it  is  the  fnnction 
of  parents  to  see  that  their  children  habitually  ex- 
perience the  true  consequences  of  their  conduct — 
the  natural  reactions:  neither  warding  them  off, 
nor  intensifying  them,  nor  putting  artificial  conse- 
quences in  place  of  them?  iSo  unprejudiced  reader 
will  hesitate  in  his  assent. 

Probably,  however,  not  a  few  will  contend  that 
already  most  parents  do  this — that  the  punishments 
they  inflict  are,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  the  true 
consequences  of  ill-conduct — that  parental  anger, 
venting  itself  in  harsh  words  and  deeds,  is  the  re- 
sult of  a  child's  transgression — and  that,  in  the 
suffering,  physical  or  moral,  which  the  child  is 
subject  to,  it  experiences  the  natural  reaction  of  its 
misbehaviour.  Along  with  much  error  this  asser- 
tion, doubtless,  contains  some  truth.  It  is  unques- 
tionable that  the  displeasure  of  fathers  and  mothers 
is  a  true  consequence  of  juvenile  delinquency;  and 
that  the  manifestation  of  it  is  a  normal  check  upon 
such  delinquency.  It  is  unquestionable  that  the 
scoldings,  and  threats,  and  blows,  which  a  passion- 
ate parent  visits  on  offending  little  ones,  are  effects 
actually  produced  in  such  a  parent  by  their  of- 
fences; and  so  are,  in  some  sort,  to  be  considered 


BAD  SYSTEMS  MAY  BE  RELATIVELY  GOOD.  183 

as  among  the  natural  reactions  of  their  wrong  ac- 
tions. And  we  are  by  no  means  prepared  to  say 
that  these  modes  of  treatment  are  not  relatively 
right — right,  that  is,  in  relation  to  the  uncontrol- 
lable children  of  ill-controlled  adults;  and  right  in 
relation  to  a  state  of  society  in  which  such  ill-con- 
trolled adults  make  up  the  mass  of  the  people.  As 
already  suggested,  educational  systems,  like  politi- 
cal and  other  institutions,  are  generally  as  good  as 
the  state  of  human  nature  permits.  The  barbarous 
children  of  barbarous  parents  are  probably  only  to 
be  restrained  by  the  barbarous  methods  which  such 
parents  spontaneously  employ;  while  submission 
to  these  barbarous  methods  is  perhaps  the  best  prep- 
aration such  children  can  have  for  the  barbarous 
society  in  which  they  are  presently  to  play  a  part. 
Conversely,  the  civilized  members  of  a  civilized  so- 
ciety will  spontaneously  manifest  their  displeasure 
in  less  violent  ways — will  spontaneously  use  milder 
measures:  measures  strong  enough  for  their  better- 
natured  children.  Thus  it  is  doubtless  true  that, 
in  so  far  as  the  expression  of  parental  feeling  is 
concerned,  the  principle  of  the  natural  reaction  is 
always  more  or  less  followed.  The  system  of  do- 
mestic government  ever  gravitates  towards  its  right 
form. 

But  now  observe  two  important  facts.     In  the 


184  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

first  place,  observe  that,  in  states  of  rapid  transition 
like  ours,  which  witness  a  long-drawn  battle  be- 
tween old  and  new  theories  and  old  and  new  prac- 
tices, the  educational  methods  in  use  are  apt  to  .be 
considerably  out  of  harmony  with  the  times.  In 
deference  to  dogmas  fit  only  for  the  ages  that  ut- 
tered them,  many  parents  inflict  punishments  that 
do  violence  to  their  own  feelings,  and  so  visit  on 
their  children  unnatural  reactions;  while  other 
parents,  enthusiastic  in  their  hopes  of  inmiediate 
perfection,  rush  to  the  opposite  extreme.  And  then 
observe,  in  the  second  place,  that  the  discipline  on 
which  we  are  insisting  is  not  so  much  the  expe- 
rience of  parental  approbation  or  disapprobation, 
which,  in  most  cases,  is  only  a  secondary  conse- 
quence of  a  child's  conduct ;  but  it  is  the  experience 
of  those  results  which  would  naturally  flow  from 
the  conduct  in  the  absence  of  parental  opinion  or 
interference.  The  truly  instructive  and  salutary 
consequences  are  not  those  inflicted  by  parents 
when  they  take  upon  themselves  to  be  Nature's 
proxies;  but  they  are  those  inflicted  by  I^ature 
herself.  We  will  endeavour  to  make  this  distinc- 
tion clear  by  a  few  illustrations,  which,  while  they 
show  what  we  mean  by  natural  reactions  as  con- 
trasted with  artificial  ones,  will  afford  some  directly 
practical  suggestions. 


THE  NORMAL  SYSTEM  ILLUSTRATED.      185 

In  every  family  where  there  are  young  children 
there  almost  daily  occur  cases  of  what  mothers  and 
servants  call  "  making  a  litter."  A  child  has  had 
out  its  box  of  toys,  and  leaves  them  scattered  about 
the  floor.  Or  a  handful  of  flowers,  brought  in 
from  a  morning  walk,  is  presently  seen  dispersed 
over  tables  and  chairs.  Or  a  little  girl,  making 
doll's-clothes,  disfigures  the  room  with  shreds.  In 
most  cases  the  trouble  of  rectifying  this  disorder 
falls  anywhere  but  in  the  right  place:  if  in  the 
nursery,  the  nurse  herself,  with  many  grumblings 
about  "  tiresome  little  things,"  &c.,  undertakes  the 
task;  if  below  stairs,  the  task  usually  devolves 
either  on  one  of  the  elder  children  or  on  the  house- 
maid; the  transgressor  being  visited  with  nothing 
more  than  a  scolding.  In  this  very  simple  case, 
however,  there  are  many  parents  wise  enough  to  fol- 
low out,  more  or  less  consistently,  the  normal  course 
— that  of  making  the  child  itself  collect  the  toys 
or  shreds.  The  labour  of  putting  things  in  order 
is  the  true  consequence  of  having  put  them  in  dis- 
order. Every  trader  in  his  office,  every  wife  in  her 
household,  has  daily  experience  of  this  fact.  And 
if  education  be  a  preparation  for  the  business  of  life, 
then  every  child  should  also,  from  the  beginning, 
have  daily  experience  of  this  fact.     If  the  natural 

penalty  be  met  by  any  refractory  behaviour  (which 
25 


186  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

it  may  perhaps  be  where  the  general  system  of 
moral  discipline  previously  pursued  has  been  bad), 
then  the  proper  course  is  to  let  the  child  feel  the 
ulterior  reaction  consequent  on  its  disobedience. 
Having  refused  or  neglected  to  pick  up  and  put 
away  the  things  it  has  scattered  about,  and  having 
thereby  entailed  the  trouble  of  doing  this  on  some 
one  else,  the  child  should,  on  subsequent  occasions, 
be  denied  the  means  of  giving  this  trouble.  When 
next  it  petitions  for  its  toy-box,  the  reply  of  its 
mamma  should  be — "  The  last  time  you  had  your 
toys  you  left  them  lying  on  the  floor,  and  Jane  had 
to  pick  them  up.  Jane  is  too  busy  to  pick  up  every 
day  the  things  you  leave  about;  and  I  cannot  do  it 
myself.  So  that,  as  you  will  not  put  away  your 
toys  when  you  have  done  with  them,  I  cannot  let 
you  have  them."  This  is  obviously  a  natural  con- 
sequence, neither  increased  nor  lessened;  and  must 
be  so  recognised  by  a  child.  The  penalty  comes, 
too,  at  the  moment  when  it  is  most  keenly  felt.  A 
new-born  desire  is  balked  at  the  moment  of  antici- 
pated gratification;  and  the  strong  impression  so 
produced  can  scarcely  fail  to  have  an  effect  on  the 
future  conduct:  an  effect  which,  by  consistent  rep- 
etition, will  do  whatever  can  be  done  in  curing 
the  fault.  Add  to  which,  that,  by  this  method,  a 
child  is  early  taught  the  lesson  which  cannot  be 


THE  NORMAL  SYSTEM  ILLUSTRATED.       187 

learnt  too  soon,  that  in  tins  world  of  ours  pleasures 
are  rightly  to  be  obtained  only  by  labour. 

Take  another  case.  ISTot  long  since  we  had  fre- 
quently to  listen  to  the  reprimands  visited  on  a 
little  girl  who  was  scarcely  ever  ready  in  time  for 
the  daily  walk.  Of  eager  disposition,  and  apt  to 
become  thoroughly  absorbed  in  the  occupation  of 
the  moment,  Constance  never  thought  of  putting 
on  her  things  until  the  rest  were  ready.  The  gov- 
erness and  the  other  children  had  almost  invariably 
to  wait;  and  from  the  mamma  there  almost  in- 
variably came  the  same  scolding.  latterly  as  this 
system  failed  it  never  occurred  to  the  mamma  to 
let  Constance  experience  the  natural  penalty.  Xor, 
indeed,  would  she  try  it  when  it  was  suggested  to 
her.  In  the  world  the  penalty  of  being  behind 
time  is  the  loss  of  some  advantage  that  would  else 
have  been  gained:  the  train  is  gone;  or  the  steam- 
boat is  just  leaving  its  moorings;  or  the  best  things 
in  the  market  are  sold;  or  all  the  good  seats  in 
the  concert-room  are  filled.  And  every  one,  in 
cases  perpetually  occurring,  may  see  that  it  is  the 
prospective  deprivations  entailed  by  being  too  late 
which  prevent  people  from  being  too  late.  Is  not 
the  inference  obvious?  Should  not  these  prospec- 
tive deprivations  control  the  child's  conduct  also? 
If  Constance  is  not  ready  at  the  appointed  time,  the 


188  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

natural  result  is  that  of  being  left  behind,  and 
losing  her  walk.  And  no  one  can,  we  think,  doubt 
that  after  having  once  or  twice  remained  at  home 
while  the  rest  were  enjoying  themselves  in  the 
fields,  and  after  having  felt  that  this  loss  of  a  much- 
prized  gratification  was  solely  due  to  want  of 
promptitude,  some  amendment  would  take  place. 
At  any  rate,  the  measure  would  be  more  effective 
than  that  perpetual  scolding  which  ends  only  in  pro- 
ducing callousness. 

Again,  when  children,  with  more  than  usual 
carelessness,  break  or  lose  the  things  given  to  them, 
the  natural  penalty — the  penalty  which  makes 
grown-up  persons  more  careful — is  the  consequent 
inconvenience.  The  want  of  the  lost  or  damaged 
article,  and  the  cost  of  supplying  its  place,  are  the 
experiences  by  which  men  and  women  are  disci- 
plined in  these  matters;  and  the  experience  of  chil- 
dren should  be  as  much  as  possible  assimilated  to 
theirs.  We  do  not  refer  to  that  early  period  at 
which  toys  are  pulled  to  pieces  in  the  process  of 
learning  their  physical  properties,  and  at  which  the 
results  of  carelessness  cannot  be  understood;  but  to 
a  later  period,  when  the  meaning  and  advantages 
of  property  are  perceived.  When  a  boy,  old 
enough  to  possess  a  penknife,  uses  it  so  roughly  as 
to  snap  the  blade,  or  leaves  it  in  the  grass  by  some 


ADVANTAGES  OF  THE  NORMAL  SYSTEM.  189 

hedge-side,  where  he  was  cutting  a  stick,  a  thought- 
less parent,  or  some  indulgent  relative,  will  com- 
monly forthwith  buy  him  another;  not  seeing  that, 
by  doing  this,  a  valuable  lesson  is  lost.     In  such  a 
case,  a  father  may  properly  explain  that  penknives 
cost  money,  and  that  to  get  money  requires  labour; 
that  he  cannot  afford  to  purchase  new  penknives 
for  one  who  loses  or  breaks  them;  and  that  until 
he  sees  evidence  of  greater  carefulness  he  must  de- 
cline to  make  good  the  loss.     A  parallel  discipline 
may  be  used  as  a  means  of  checking  extravagance. 

These  few  familiar  instances,  here  chosen  be- 
cause of  the  simplicity  with  which  they  illustrate 
our  point,  will  make  clear  to  every  one  the  distinc- 
tion between  those  natural  penalties  which  we  con- 
tend are  the  truly  efficient  ones,  and  those  artificial 
penalties  which  parents  commonly  substitute  for 
them.     Before  going  on  to  exhibit  the  higher  and 
subtler  applications  of  this  principle,  let  us  note  its 
many  and  great  superiorities  over  the  principle,  or 
rather  the  empirical  practice,  which  prevails  in  most 
families. 

In  the  first  place,  right  conceptions  of  cause  and 
effect  are  early  formed;  and  by  frequent  and  con- 
sistent experience  are  eventually  rendered  definite 
and  complete.  Proper  conduct  in  life  is  much  bet- 
ter guaranteed  when  the  good  and  evil  consequences 


190  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

of  actions  are  rationally  understood,  than  when 
they  are  merely  believed  on  authority.  A  child 
who  finds  that  disordcrlincss  entails  the  subsequent 
trouble  of  putting  things  in  order,  or  who  misses  a 
gratification  from  dilatoriness,  or  whose  want  of 
care  is  followed  by  the  loss  or  breakage  of  some 
much-prized  possession,  not  only  experiences  a  keen- 
ly-felt consequence,  but  gains  a  knowledge  of  cau- 
sation: both  the  one  and  the  other  being  just  like 
those  which  adult  life  will  bring.  Whereas  a  child 
wlio  in  such  cases  receives  some  reprimand  or  some 
factitious  penalty,  not  only  experiences  a  conse- 
quence for  which  it  often  cares  very  little,  but  lacks 
that  instruction  respecting  the  essential  natures  of 
good  and  evil  conduct,  which  it  would  else  have 
gathered.  It  is  a  vice  of  the  common  system  of 
artificial  rewards  and  punishments,  long  since  no- 
ticed by  the  clear-sighted,  that  by  substituting  for 
the  natural  results  of  misbehaviour  certain  threat- 
ened tasks  or  castigations,  it  produces  a  radically 
wrong  standard  of  moral  guidance.  Having 
throughout  infancy  and  boyhood  always  regarded 
parental  or  tutorial  displeasure  as  the  result  of  a 
forbidden  action,  the  youth  has  gained  an  estab- 
lished association  of  ideas  between  such  action  and 
such  displeasure,  as  cause  and  effect;  and  con- 
sequently when  parents  and  tutors  have  abdicated. 


ADVANTAGES   OF  TEE  NORMAL  SYSTEM.  191 

and  tlieir  displeasure  is  not  to  be  feared,  the  re- 
straint on  a  forbidden  action  is  in  great  measure 
removed:  the  true  restraints,  the  natural  reac- 
tions having  yet  to  be  learnt  by  sad  experience. 
As  writes  one  who  has  had  personal  knowledge 
of  this  short-sighted  system: — "  Young  men  let 
loose  from  school,  particularly  those  whose  par- 
ents have  neglected  to  exert  their  influence,  plunge 
into  every  description  of  extravagance;  they 
know  no  rule  of  action — they  are  ignorant  of 
the  reasons  for  moral  conduct — they  have  no  foun- 
dation to  rest  upon — and  until  they  have  been  se- 
verely disciplined  by  the  world  are  extremely  dan- 
gerous members  of  society." 

Another  great  advantage  of  this  natural  system 
of  discipline  is,  that  it  is  a  system  of  pure  justice; 
and  will  be  recognised  by  every  child  as  such. 
Whoso  suffers  nothing  more  than  the  evil  which  ob- 
viously follows  naturally  from  his  own  misbehav- 
iour, is  much  less  likely  to  think  himself  wrongly 
treated  than  if  he  suffers  an  evil  artificially  inflicted 
on  him;  and  this  will  be  true  of  children  as  of 
men.  Take  the  case  of  a  boy  who  is  habitually 
reckless  of  his  clothes — scrambles  through  hedges 
without  caution,  or  is  utterly  regardless  of  mud. 
If  he  is  beaten,  or  sent  to  bed,  he  is  apt  to  regard 
himself  as  ill-used;  and  his  mind  is  more  likely  to 


192  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

be  occupied  by  thinking  over  his  injuries  than  re- 
penting of  his  transgressions.  But  suppose  he  is 
required  to  rectify  as  far  as  he  can  the  harm  he  has 
done — to  clean  Off  the  mud  with  which  he  has  cov- 
ered himself,  or  to  mend  the  tear  as  well  as  he  can. 
Will  he  not  feel  that  the  evil  is  one  of  his  own  pro- 
ducing? Will  he  not  while  paying  this  penalty  be 
continuously  conscious  of  the  connexion  between  it 
and  its  cause?  And  will  he  not,  spite  his  irrita- 
tion, recognise  more  or  less  clearly  the  justice  of  the 
arrangement?  If  several  lessons  of  this  kind  fail 
to  produce  amendment — if  suits  of  clothes  are  pre- 
maturely spoiled — if  pursuing  this  same  system  of 
discipline  a  father  declines  to  spend  money  for  new 
ones  until  the  ordinary  time  has  elapsed — and  if 
meanwhile,  there  occur  occasions  on  which,  having 
no  decent  clothes  to  go  in,  the  boy  is  debarred  from 
joining  the  rest  of  the  family  on  holiday  excursions 
and  fete  days,  it  is  manifest  that  while  he  will  keen- 
ly feel  the  punishment,  he  can  scarcely  fail  to  trace 
the  chain  of  causation,  and  to  perceive  that  his  own 
carelessness  is  the  origin  of  it;  and  seeing  this,  he 
wdll  not  have  the  same  sense  of  injustice  as  when 
there  is  no  obvious  connexion  between  the  trans- 
gression and  its  penalty. 

Again,  the  tempers  both  of  parents  and  children 
are  much  less  liable  to  be  ruffled  under  this  system 


EVILS  OF  ARTIFICIAL  PUNISHMENT.       193 

tlian  under  the  ordinary  system.  Instead  of  letting 
children  experience  the  painful  results  which  natu- 
rally follow  from  wrong  conduct,  the  usual  course 
pursued  by  parents  is  to  inflict  themselves  certain 
other  painful  results.  A  double  mischief  arises 
from  this.  Making,  as  they  do,  multiplied  family 
laws;  and  identifying  their  own  supremacy  and 
dignity  with  the  maintenance  of  these  laws;  it  hap- 
pens that  every  transgression  comes  to  be  regarded 
as  an  offence  against  themselves,  and  a  cause  of 
anger  on  their  part.  Add  to  which  the  further  ir- 
ritations which  result  from  taking  upon  themselves, 
in  the  shape  of  extra  labour  or  cost,  those  evil  con- 
sequences which  should  have  been  allowed  to  fall 
on  the  wrong-doers.  Similarly  with  the  children. 
Penalties  which  the  necessary  reaction  of  things 
brings  around  upon  them — penalties  which  are  in- 
flicted by  impersonal  agency,  produce  an  irritation 
that  is  comparatively  slight  and  transient;  whereas, 
penalties  which  are  voluntarily  inflicted  by  a  par- 
ent, and  are  afterwards  remembered  as  caused  by 
him  or  her,  produce  an  irritation  both  greater  and 
more  continued.  Just  consider  how  disastrous 
would  be  the  result  if  this  empirical  method  were 
pursued  from  the  beginning.  Suppose  it  were  pos- 
sible for  parents  to  take  upon  themselves  the  phys- 
ical sufferings  entailed  on  their  children  by  igno- 


194  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

ranee  and  awkwardness;  and  that  while  bearing 
these  evil  consequences  they  visited  on  their  chil- 
dren certain  other  evil  consequences,  with  the  view 
of  teaching  them  the  impropriety  of  their  conduct. 
Supjwse  that  when  a  child,  who  had  been  forbidden 
to  meddle  with  the  kettle,  spilt  some  boiling  water 
on  its  foot,  the  mother  vicariously  assumed  the 
scald  and  gave  a  blow  in  place  of  it;  and  similarly 
in  all  other  cases.  Would  not  the  daily  mishaps  be 
sources  of  far  more  anger  than  now?  Would  there 
not  be  chronic  ill-temper  on  both  sides?  Yet  an 
exactly  parallel  policy  is  pursued  in  after  years.  A 
father  who  punishes  his  boy  for  carelessly  or  wil- 
fully breaking  a  sister's  toy,  and  then  himself  pays 
for  a  new  toy,  does  substantially  this  same  thing — 
inflicts  an  artificial  penalty  on  the  transgressor, 
and  takes  the  natural  penalty  on  himself:  his  own 
feelings  and  those  of  the  transgressor  being  alike 
needlessly  irritated.  If  he  simply  required  resti- 
tution to  be  made,  he  would  produce  far  less  heart- 
burning. If  he  told  the  boy  that  a  new  toy  must 
be  bought  at  his,  the  boy's  cost,  and  that  his  supply 
of  pocket-money  must  be  withheld  to  the  needful 
extent,  there  would  be  much  less  cause  for  ebulli- 
tion of  temper  on  either  side;  while  in  the  depriva- 
tion afterwards  felt,  the  boy  would  experience  the 
equitable  and  salutary  consequence.     In  brief,  the 


PARENTAL  WRATH.  195 

system  of  discipline  by  natural  reactions  is  less  in- 
jurious to  temper,  alike  because  it  is  perceived  on 
both  sides  to  be  nothing  more  than  pure  justice, 
and  because  it  more  or  less  substitutes  the  imper- 
sonal agency  of  nature  for  the  personal  agency  of 
parents. 

Whence  also  follows  the  manifest  corollary,  that 
under  this  system  the  parental  and  filial  relation 
will  be  more  friendly,  and  therefore  a  more  in- 
fluential one.  Whether  in  parent  or  child,  anger, 
however  caused,  and  to  whomsoever  directed,  is 
more  or  less  detrimental.  But  anger  in  a  parent  to- 
wards a  child,  and  in  a  child  towards  a  parent,  is  es- 
pecially detrimental;  because  it  weakens  that  bond 
of  sympathy  which  is  essential  to  a  beneficent  con- 
trol. In  virtue  of  the  general  law  of  association  of 
ideas,  it  inevitably  results,  both  in  young  and  old, 
that  dislike  is  contracted  towards  things  which  in 
our  experience  are  habitually  connected  with  dis- 
agreeable feelings.  Or  where  attachment  origi- 
nally existed,  it  is  weakened,  or  destroyed,  or  turned 
into  repugnance,  according  to  the  quantity  of  pain- 
ful impressions  received.  Parental  wrath,  with  its 
accompanying  reprimands  and  castigations,  cannot 
fail,  if  often  repeated,  to  produce  filial  alienation; 
while  the  resentment  and  sulkiness  of  children  can- 
not fail  to  weaken  the  affection  felt  for  them,  and 


196  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

may  even  end  in  destroying  it.  Hence  the  numer- 
ous cases  in  which  parents  (and  especially  fathers, 
who  are  commonly  deputed  to  express  the  auger  and 
inflict  the  punishment)  are  regarded  with  indif- 
ference, if  not  with  aversion ;  and  hence  the  equally 
numerous  cases  in  which  children  are  looked  upon 
as  inflictions.  Seeing,  then,  as  all  must  do,  that 
estrangement  of  this  kind  is  fatal  to  a  salutary 
moral  culture,  it  follows  that  parents  cannot  be  too 
solicitous  in  avoiding  the  occasions  of  direct  antago- 
nism with  their  children — occasions  of  personal 
resentment.  And  therefore  they  cannot  too  anx- 
iously avail  themselves  of  this  discipline  of  natural 
consequences — this  system  of  letting  the  penalty  be 
inflicted  by  the  laws  of  things;  which,  by  saving 
the  parent  from  the  function  of  a  penal  agent, 
prevents  these  mutual  exasperations  and  estrange- 
ments. 

Thus  we  see  that  this  method  of  moral  culture 
by  experience  of  the  normal  reactions,  which  is  the 
divinely-ordained  method  alike  for  infancy  and  for 
adult  life,  is  equally  applicable  during  the  inter- 
mediate childhood  and  youth.  And  among  the  ad- 
vantages of  this  method  we  see — First.  That  it 
gives  that  rational  comprehension  of  right  and 
wrong  conduct  which  results  from  actual  experience 
of  the  good  and  bad  consequences  caused  by  them. 


A  FEW  ILLUSTRATIVE  FACTS.  197 

Second.  That  the  child,  suffering  nothing  more 
than  the  painful  effects  brought  upon  it  by  its  own 
wrong  actions,  must  recognise  more  or  less  clearly 
the  justice  of  the  penalties.  Third.  That,  recog- 
nising the  justice  of  the  penalties,  and  receiving 
those  penalties  through  the  working  of  things, 
rather  than  at  the  hands  of  an  individual,  its  temper 
will  be  less  disturbed;  while  the  parent  occupying 
the  comparatively  passive  position  of  taking  care 
that  the  natural  penalties  are  felt,  will  preserve 
a  comparative  equanimity.  And  Fourth.  That 
mutual  exasperation  being  thus  in  great  measure 
prevented,  a  much  happier,  and  a  more  influential 
state  of  feeling,  will  exist  between  parent  and  child. 

"  But  what  is  to  be  done  with  more  serious  mis- 
conduct?" some  will  ask.  "How  is  this  plan  to 
be  carried  out  when  a  petty  theft  has  been  com- 
mitted? or  when  a  lie  has  been  told?  or  when  some 
younger  brother  or  sister  has  been  ill-used?  " 

Before  replying  to  these  questions,  let  us  con- 
sider the  bearings  of  a  few  illustrative  facts. 

Living  in  the  family  of  his  brother-in-law,  a 
friend  of  ours  had  undertaken  the  education  of  his 
little  nephew  and  niece.  This  he  had  conducted, 
more  perhaps  from  natural  sympathy  than  from 
reasoned-out  conclusions,  in  the  spirit  of  the  method 


198  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

above  set  forth.  The  two  children  were  in  doors 
his  pupils  and  out  of  doors  his  companions.  They 
daily  joined  him  in  walks  and  botanizing  excur- 
sions, eagerly  sought  out  plants  for  him,  looked  on 
while  he  examined  and  identified  them,  and  in  this 
and  other  ways  were  ever  gaining  both  pleasure  and 
instruction  in  his  society.  In  short,  morally  con- 
sidered, he  stood  to  them  much  more  in  the  position 
of  parent  than  either  their  father  or  mother  did. 
Describing  to  us  the  results  of  this  policy,  he  gave, 
among  other  instances,  the  following.  One  even- 
ing, having  need  for  some  article  lying  in  another 
part  of  the  house,  he  asked  his  nephew  to  fetch  it 
for  him.  Deeply  interested  as  the  boy  was  in  some 
amusement  of  the  moment,  he,  contrary  to  his 
wont,  either  exhibited  great  reluctance  or  refused, 
we  forget  which.  His  uncle,  disapproving  of  a 
coercive  course,  fetched  it  himself;  merely  exhibit- 
ing by  his  manner  the  annoyance  this  ill-behaviour 
gave  him.  And  when,  later  in  the  evening,  the 
boy  made  overtures  for  the  usual  play,  they  were 
gravely  repelled — the  uncle  manifested  just  that 
coldness  of  feeling  naturally  produced  in  him,  and 
so  let  the  boy  experience  the  necessary  consequences 
of  his  conduct.  ]N^ext  morning  at  the  usual  time 
for  rising,  our  friend  heard  a  new  voice  outside  the 
door,  and  in  walked  his  little  nephew  with  the  hot 


FRIENDSHIP  OP   PARENT  AND  CHILD.      199 

water;  and  tlien  the  boy,  peering  about  the  room 
to  see  what  else  could  be  done,  exclaimed,  ''  Oh! 
you  want  your  boots,"  and  forthwith  rushed  down 
stairs  to  fetch  them.  In  this  and  other  ways  he 
showed  a  true  penitence  for  his  misconduct;  he  en- 
deavoured by  unusual  services  to  make  up  for  the 
service  he  had  refused;  his  higher  feelings  had  of 
themselves  conquered  his  lower  ones,  and  acquired 
strength  by  the  conquest;  and  he  valued  more  than 
before  the  friendship  he  thus  regained. 

This  gentleman  is  now  himself  a  father ;  acts  on 
the  same  system;  and  finds  it  answer  completely. 
He  makes  himself  thoroughly  his  children's  friend. 
The  evening  is  longed  for  by  them  because  he  will 
be  at  home;  and  they  especially  enjoy  the  Sunday 
because  he  is  with  them  all  day.  Thus  possessing 
their  perfect  confidence  and  affection,  he  finds  that 
the  simple  display  of  his  approbation  or  disapproba- 
tion gives  him  abundant  power  of  control.  If,  on 
his  return  home,  he  hears  that  one  of  his  boys  has 
been  naughty,  he  behaves  towards  him  with  that 
comparative  coldness  which  the  consciousness  of  the 
boy's  misconduct  naturally  produces;  and  he  finds 
this  a  most  efiicient  punishment.  The  mere  with- 
holding of  the  usual  caresses,  is  a,  source  of  the 
keenest  distress — produces  a  much  more  prolonged 
fit  of  crying  than  a  beating  would  do.     And  the 


200  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

dread  of  this  purely  moral  penalty  is,  he  says,  ever 
present  during  his  absence:  so  much  so,  that  fre- 
quently during  the  day  his  children  inquire  of  their 
mamma  how  they  have  behaved,  and  whether  the 
report  will  be  good.  Recently,  the  eldest,  an  ac- 
tive urchin  of  five,  in  one  of  those  bursts  of  animal 
spirits  common  in  healthy  children,  committed  sun- 
dry extravagances  during  his  mamma's  •absence — 
cut  off  part  of  his  brother's  hair  and  wounded  him- 
self with  a  razor  taken  from  his  father's  dressing- 
case.  Hearing  of  these  occurrences  on  his  return, 
the  father  did  not  speak  to  the  boy  either  that  night 
or  next  morning.  Not  only  was  the  tribulation 
great,  but  the  subsequent  effect  was,  that  when,  a 
few  days  after,  the  mamma  was  about  to  go  out,  she 
was  earnestly  entreated  by  the  boy  not  to  do  so;  and 
on  inquiry,  it  appeared  his  fear  was  that  he  might 
again  transgress  in  her  absence. 

We  have  introduced  these  facts  before  replying 
to  the  question — "  Wliat  is  to  be  done  with  the 
graver  offences?  "  for  the  purpose  of  first  exhibiting 
the  relation  that  may  and  ought  to  be  established 
between  parents  and  children;  for  on  the  existence 
of  this  relation  depends  the  successful  treatment  of 
these  graver  offences.  And  as  a  further  prelimi- 
nary, we  must  now  point  out  that  the  establishment 
of  this  relation  will  result  from  adopting  the  sys- 


PARENTS  REGARDED  AS  FRIEND-ENEMIES.     201 

tern  we  advocate.  Already  we  have  shown  that 
by  letting  a  child  experience  simply  the  painful 
reactions  of  its  own  wrong  actions,  a  parent  in  great 
measure  avoids  assuming  the  attitude  of  an  enemy, 
and  escapes  being  regarded  as  one;  but  it  still  re- 
mains to  be  shown  that  where  this  course  has  been 
consistently  pursued  from  the  beginning,  a  strong 
feeling  of  active  friendship  will  be  generated. 

At  present,  mothers  and  fathers  are  mostly  con- 
sidered by  their  offspring  as  friend-enemies.  De- 
termined as  their  impressions  inevitably  are  by  the 
treatment  they  receive;  and  oscillating  as  that  treat- 
ment does  between  bribery  and  thwarting,  between 
petting  and  scolding,  between  gentleness  and  casti- 
gation;  children  necessarily  acquire  conflicting  be- 
liefs respecting  the  parental  character.  A  mother 
commonly  thinks  it  quite  sufficient  to  tell  her  little 
boy  that  she  is  his  best  friend;  and  assuming  that  he 
is  in  duty  bound  to  believe  her,  concludes  that  he 
will  forthwith  do  so.  "  It  is  all  for  your  good;  " 
"  I  know  what  is  proper  for  you  better  than  you  do 
yourself;"  "You  are  not  old  enough  to  understand 
it  now,  but  when  you  grow  up  you  will  thank  me 
for  doing  what  I  do;  " — these,  and  like  assertions, 
are  daily  reiterated.  Meanwhile  the  boy  is  daily 
suffering  positive  penalties;  and  is  hourly  forbid- 
den to  do  this,  that,  and  the  other,  which  he  was 
27 


202  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

anxious  to  do.  By  words  he  hears  that  his  happi- 
ness is  the  end  in  view ;  but  from  the  accompanying 
deeds  he  habitually  receives  more  or  less  pain.  Ut- 
terly incompetent  as  he  is  to  understand  that  future 
which  his  mother  has  in  view,  or  how  this  treatment 
conduces  to  the  happiness  of  that  future,  he  judges 
by  such  results  as  he  feels;  and  finding  these  results 
any  thing  but  pleasurable,  he  becomes  sceptical 
respecting  these  professions  of  friendship.  And  is 
it  not  folly  to  expect  any  other  issue?  Must  not 
the  child  judge  by  such  evidence  as  he  has  got?  and 
does  not  this  evidence  seem  to  warrant  his  con- 
clusion? The  mother  would  reason  in  just  the 
same  way  if  similarly  placed.  If,  in  the  circle  of 
her  acquaintance,  she  found  some  one  who  was 
constantly  thwarting  her  wishes,  uttering  sharp  rep- 
rimands, and  occasionally  inflicting  actual  pen- 
alties on  her,  she  would  pay  but  little  attention  to 
any  professions  of  anxiety  for  her  welfare  which 
accompanied  these  acts.  Why,  then,  does  she  sup- 
pose that  her  boy  will  conclude  otherwise? 

But  now  observe  how  different  will  be  the  re- 
sults if  the  system  we  contend  for  be  consistently 
pursued — if  the  mother  not  only  avoids  becoming 
the  instrument  of  punishment,  but  plays  the  part 
of  a  friend,  by  warning  her  boy  of  the  punishments 
which  j^ature  will  inflict.     Take  a  case;  and  that 


COURSE  OF  THE  DISCRIMINATIXG  MOTHER.  203 

it  may  illustrate  the  mode  in  which  this  policy  is 
to  be  early  initiated,  let  it  be  one  of  the  simplest 
cases.  Suppose  that,  prompted  by  the  experi- 
mental spirit  so  conspicuous  in  children,  whose 
proceedings  instinctively  conform  to  the  inductive 
method  of  inquiry — suppose  that  so  prompted  the 
child  is  amusing  himself  by  lighting  pieces  of  pa- 
per in  the  candle  and  watching  them  burn.  If  his 
mother  is  of  the  ordinary  unreflective  stamp,  she 
will  either,  on  the  plea  of  keeping  the  child  "  out 
of  mischief,"  or  from  fear  that  he  will  burn  himself, 
command  him  to  desist;  and  in  case  of  non-com- 
pliance will  snatch  the  paper  from  him.  On  the 
other  hand,  should  he  be  so  fortunate  as  to  have  a 
mother  of  sufficient  rationality,  who  knows  that 
this  interest  with  which  the  child  is  watching  the 
paper  burn  results  from  a  healthy  inquisitiveness, 
without  which  he  would  never  have  emerged  out 
of  infantine  stupidity,  and  who  is  also  wise  enough 
to  consider  the  moral  results  of  interference,'  she 
will  reason  thus: — "  If  I  put  a  stop  to  this  I  shall 
prevent  the  acquirement  of  a  certain  amount  of 
knowledge.  It  is  true  that  I  may  save  the  child 
from  a  burn;  but  what  then?  He  is  sure  to  burn 
himself  sometime;  and  it  is  quite  essential  to  his 
safety  in  life  that  he  should  learn  by  experience  the 
properties  of  flame.     Moreover,   if  I  forbid  him 


204  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

from  running  this  present  risk,  lie  is  sure  hereafter 
to  run  the  same  or  a  greater  risk  when  no  one  is 
present  to  prevent  him;  whereas,  if  he  should 
have  any  accident  now  that  I  am  by,  I  can  save  him 
from  any  great  injury;  add  to  which  the  advantage 
that  he  will  have  in  future  some  dread  of  fire,  and 
will  be  less  likely  to  burn  himself  to  death,  or  set 
the  house  in  a  flame  when  others  are  absent.  Fur- 
thermore, were  I  to  make  him  desist,!  should  thwart 
him  in  the  pursuit  of  what  is  in  itself  a  purely  harm- 
less, and  indeed,  instructive  gratification;  and  he 
would  be  sure  to  regard  me  with  more  or  less  ill- 
feeling.  Ignorant  as  he  is  of  the  pain  from  which 
I  would  save  him,  and  feeling  only  the  pain  of  a 
balked  desire,  he  could  not  fail  to  look  upon  me  as 
the  cause  of  that  pain.  To  save  him  from  a  hurt, 
which  he  cannot  conceive,  and  which  has  therefore 
no  existence  for  him,  I  inflict  upon  him  a  hurt 
which  he  feels  keenly  enough ;  and  so  become,  from 
his  point  of  view,  a  minister  of  evil.  My  best 
course  then,  is  simply  to  warn  him  of  the  danger, 
and  to  be  ready  to  prevent  any  serious  damage." 
And  following  out  this  conclusion,  she  says  to  the 
child — "  I  fear  you  will  hurt  yourself  if  you  do 
that."  Suppose,  now,  that  the  child  perseveres,  as 
he  will  very  probably  do;  and  suppose  that  he  ends 
by  burning  himself.     "VYhat  are  the  results?     In 


CHILDREN  MUST  LEARN  BY  EXPERIENCE.  205 

the  first  place  he  has  gained  an  experience  which 
he  must  gain  eventually,  and  which,  for  his  own 
safety  he  cannot  gain  too  soon.  And  in  the  second 
place,  he  has  found  that  his  mother's  disapproval  or 
warning  was  meant  for  his  welfare:  he  has  a  fur- 
ther positive  experience  of  her  benevolence — a  fur- 
ther reason  for  placing  confidence  in  her  judgment 
and  her  kindness — a  further  reason  for  loving  her. 

Of  course,  in  those  occasional  hazards  where 
there  is  a  risk  of  broken  limbs  or  other  serious  bodily 
injury,  forcible  prevention  is  called  for.  But  leav- 
ing out  these  extreme  cases,  the  system  pursued 
should  be  not  that  of  guarding  a  child  against  the 
small  dangers  into  which  it  daily  runs,  but  that  of 
advising  and  warning  it  against  them.  And  by 
consistently  pursuing  this  course,  a  much  stronger 
filial  affection  will  be  generated  than  commonly 
exists.  If  here,  as  elsewhere,  the  discipline  of  the 
natural  reactions  is  allowed  to  come  into  play — if 
in  all  those  out-of-door  scramblings  and  in-door  ex- 
periments, by  which  children  are  liable  to  hurt 
themselves,  they  are  allowed  to  persevere,  subject 
only  to  dissuasion  more  or  less  earnest  according  to 
the  risk,  there  cannot  fail  to  arise  an  ever-increasing 
faith  in  the  parental  friendship  and  guidance. 
Kot  only,  as  before  shown,  does  the  adoption  of  this 
principle  enable  fathers  and  mothers  to  avoid  the 


206  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

chief  part  of  that  odium  which  attaches  to  the  in- 
fliction of  positive  punishment;  but,  as  we  here  see, 
it  enables  them  further  to  avoid  the  odium  that  at- 
taches to  constant  thwartings;  and  even  to  turn 
each  of  those  incidents  which  commonly  cause 
squabbles,  into  a  means  of  strengthening  the  nm- 
tual  good  feeling.  Instead  of  being  told  in  words, 
which  deeds  seem  to  contradict,  that  their  parents 
are  their  best  friends,  children  will  learn  this  truth 
by  a  consistent  daily  experience;  and  so  learning  it, 
will  acquire  a  degree  of  trust  and  attachment  which 
nothing  else  can  give. 

And  now  having  indicated  the  much  more 
sympathetic  relation  which  must  result  from  the 
habitual  use  of  this  method,  let  us  return  to  the 
question  above  put — How  is  this  method  to  be  ap- 
plied to  the  graver  offences? 

!N^ote,  in  the  first  place,  that  these  graver  of- 
fences are  likely  to  be  both  less  frequent  and  less 
grave  under  the  regime  we  have  described  than  un- 
der the  ordinary  regime.  The  perpetual  ill-behav- 
iour of  many  children  is  itself  the  consequence  of 
that  chronic  irritation  in  w^hich  they  are  kept  by 
bad  management.  The  state  of  isolation  and  an- 
tagonism produced  by  frequent  punishment,  neces- 
sarily deadens  the  sympathies;  necessarily,  there- 
fore, opens  the  way  to  those  transgressions  which 


TREATMENT  OF  GRAVE  OFFENCES.    207 

the  sympathies  should  check.  That  harsh  treat- 
ment which  children  of  the  same  family  inflict  on 
each  other  is  often,  in  great  measure,  a  reflex  of  the 
harsh  treatment  they  receive  from  adults — partly 
suggested  by  direct  example,  and  partly  generated 
by  the  ill-temper  and  the  tendency  to  vicarious  re- 
taliation, which  follow  chastisements  and  scoldings. 
It  cannot  be  questioned  that  the  greater  activity  of 
the  affections  and  happier  state  of  feeling,  main- 
tained in  children  by  the  discipline  we  have  de- 
scribed, must  prevent  their  sins  against  each  other 
from  being  either  so  great  or  so  frequent.  More- 
over, the  still  more  reprehensible  offences,  as  lies 
and  petty  thefts,  will,  by  the  same  causes,  be  di- 
minished. Domestic  estrangement  is  a  fruitful 
source  of  such  transgressions.  It  is  a  law  of  human 
nature,  visible  enough  to  all  who  observe,  that 
those  who  are  debarred  the  higher  gTatifications  fall 
back  upon  the  lower;  those  who  have  no  sym- 
pathetic pleasures  seek  selfish  ones;  and  hence, 
conversely,  the  maintenance  of  happier  relations 
between  parents  and  children  is  calculated  to  di- 
minish the  number  of  those  offences  of  which 
selfishness  is  the  origin. 

When,  however,  such  offences  are  committed, 
as  they  will  occasionally  be  even  under  the  best  sys- 
tem, the  discipline  of  consequences  may  still  be 


208  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

resorted  to;  and  if  there  exist  that  bond  of  confi- 
dence and  affection  which  we  have  described,  this 
discipline  will  be  found  efficient.  For  what  are 
the  natural  consequences,  say,  of  a  theft?  They 
are  of  two  kinds — direct  and  indirect.  The  direct 
consequence,  as  dictated  by  pure  equity,  is  that  of 
making  restitution.  An  absolutely  just  ruler  (and 
every  parent  should  aim  to  be  one)  will  demand 
that,  wherever  it  is  possible,  a  wrong  act  shall  be 
undone  by  a  right  one:  and  in  the  case  of  theft 
tliis  implies  either  the  restoration  of  the  thing  stolen, 
or,  if  it  is  consumed,  then  the  giving  of  an  equiva- 
lent: which,  in  the  case  of  a  child,  may  be  effected 
out  of  its  pocket-money.  The  indirect  and  more 
serious  consequence  is  the  grave  displeasure  of 
parents — a  consequence  which  inevitably  follows 
among  all  peoples  sufficiently  civilized  to  regard 
theft  as  a  crime;  and  the  manifestation  of  this  dis- 
pleasure is,  in  this  instance,  the  most  severe  of  the 
natural  reactions  produced  by  the  wrong  action. 
"  But,"  it  will  be  said,  "  the  manifestations  of  pa- 
rental displeasure,  either  in  words  or  blows,  is  the 
ordinary  course  in  these  cases:  the  method  leads 
here  to  nothing  new."  Very  true.  Already  we 
have  admitted  that,  in  some  directions,  this  method 
is  spontaneously  pursued.  Already  we  have  shown 
that  there  is  a  more  or  less  manifest  tendency  for 


EFFECTS  OF  SYMPATHY  AND  FRIENDSHIP.    209 

educational  systems  to  gravitate  towards  the  true 
system.  And  here  we  may  remark,  as  before,  that 
the  intensity  of  this  natural  reaction  will,  in  the 
beneficent  order  of  things,  adjust  itself  to  the  re- 
quirements— that  this  parental  displeasure  will 
vent  itself  in  violent  measures  during  comparatively 
barbarous  times,  when  the  children  are  also  com- 
paratively barbarous;  and  will  express  itself  less 
cruelly  in  those  more  advanced  social  states  in 
which,  by  implication,  the  children  are  amenable 
to  milder  treatment.  But  what  it  chiefly  concerns 
us  here  to  observe  is,  that  the  manifestation  of 
strong  parental  displeasure,  produced  by  one  of 
these  graver  offences,  will  be  potent  for  good  just 
in  proportion  to  the  warmth  of  the  attachment  ex- 
isting between  parent  and  child.  Just  in  propor- 
tion as  the  discipline  of  the  natural  consequences 
has  been  consistently  pursued  in  other  cases,  will  it 
be  efficient  in  this  case.  Proof  is  within  the  ex- 
perience of  all,  if  they  will  look  for  it. 

For  does  not  every  man  know  that  when  he  has 
offended  another  person,  the  amount  of  genuine  re- 
gret he  feels  (of  course,  leaving  worldly  considera- 
tions out  of  the  question)  varies  with  the  degree  of 
sympathy  he  has  for  that  person?  Is  he  not  con- 
scious that  when  the  person  offended  stands  to  him 
in  the  position  of  an  enemy,  the  having  given  him 


210  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

annoyance  is  apt  to  be  a  source  rather  of  secret  satis- 
faction than  of  sorrow?  Does  he  not  remember 
that  where  umbrage  has  been  taken  by  some  total 
stranger,  he  has  felt  much  less  concern  than  he 
would  have  done  had  such  umbrage  been  taken  by 
one  with  whom  he  was  intimate?  While,  converse- 
ly, has  not  the  anger  of  an  admired  and  cherished 
friend  been  regarded  by  him  as  a  serious  misfor- 
tune, long  and  keenly  regretted?  Clearly,  then, 
the  eifects  of  parental  displeasure  upon  children 
must  similarly  depend  upon  the  pre-existing  re- 
lationship. Where  there  is  an  established  aliena- 
tion, the  feeling  of  a  child  who  has  transgressed  is 
a  purely  selfish  fear  of  the  evil  consequences  likely 
to  fall  upon  it  in  the  shape  of  physical  penalties  or 
deprivations;  and  after  these  evil  consequences 
have  been  inflicted,  there  are  aroused  an  antagonism 
and  dislike  which  are  morally  injurious,  and  tend 
further  to  increase  the  alienation.  On  the  con- 
trary, where  there  exists  a  warm  filial  affection  pro- 
duced by  a  consistent  parental  friendship — a  friend- 
ship not  dogmatically  asserted  as  an  excuse  for  pun- 
ishments and  denials,  but  daily  exhibited  in  ways 
that  a  child  can  comprehend — a  friendship  which 
avoids  needless  thwartings,  which  warns  against  im- 
pending evil  consequences,  and  which  sympathizes 
with  juvenile  pursuits — there   the  state  of  mind 


EFFECTS  OF  SYMPATHY  AND  FRIENDSHIP.    211 

caused  by  parental  displeasure  will  not  only  be 
salutary  as  a  check  to  future  misconduct  of  like 
kind,  but  will  also  be  intrinsically  salutary.  The 
moral  pain  consequent  upon  having,  for  the  time 
being,  lost  so  loved  a  friend,  will  stand  in  place 
of  the  physical  pain  usually  inflicted;  and  where 
this  attachment  exists,  will  prove  equally,  if  not 
more,  efficient.  While  instead  of  the  fear  and  vin- 
dictiveness  excited  by  the  one  course,  there  will  be 
excited  by  the  other  more  or  less  of  sympathy  with 
parental  sorrow,  a  genuine  regret  for  having  caused 
it,  and  a  desire,  by  some  atonement,  to  re-establish 
the  habitual  friendly  relationship.  Instead  of 
bringing  into  play  those  purely  egoistic  feelings 
whose  predominance  is  the  cause  of  criminal  acts, 
there  will  be  brought  into  play  those  altruistic  feel- 
ings which  check  criminal  acts.  Thus  the  disci- 
pline of  the  natural  consequences  is  applicable  to 
grave  as  well  as  trivial  faults;  and  the  practice  of 
it  conduces  not  simply  to  the  repression,  but  to  the 
eradication  of  such  faults. 

In  brief,  the  truth  is  that  savageness  begets 
savageness,  and  gentleness  begets  gentleness.  Chil- 
dren who  are  unsympathetically  treated  become 
relatively  unsympathetic;  whereas  treating  them 
with  due  fellow-feeling  is  a  means  of  cultivating 
their  fellow-feeling.     With  family  governments  as 


212  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

with  political  ones,  a  harsh  despotism  itself  gener- 
ates a  great  part  of  the  crimes  it  has  to  repress; 
while  conversely  a  mild  and  liberal  rule  not  only 
avoids  many  causes  of  dissension,  but  so  amelio- 
rates the  tone  of  feeling  as  to  diminish  the  ten- 
dency to  transgression.  As  John  Locke  long  since 
remarked,  "  Great  severity  of  punishment  does  but 
very  little  good,  nay,  great  harm,  in  education; 
and  I  believe  it  will  be  found  that,  cceteris  paribus, 
those  children  who  have  been  most  chastised  sel- 
dom make  the  best  men."  In  confirmation  of 
which  opinion  we  may  cite  the  fact  not  long  since 
made  public  by  Mr.  Rogers,  Chaplain  of  the  Pen- 
ton  ville  Prison,  that  those  juvenile  criminals  who 
have  been  whipped  are  those  who  most  frequently 
return  to  prison.  On  the  other  hand,  as  exhibiting 
the  beneficial  effects  of  a  kinder  treatment,  we  will 
instance  the  fact  stated  to  us  by  a  French  lady,  in 
whose  house  we  recently  staid  in  Paris.  Apologiz- 
ing for  the  disturbance  daily  caused  by  a  little  boy 
who  was  unmanageable  both  at  home  and  at  school, 
she  expressed  her  fear  that  there  was  no  remedy 
save  that  which  had  succeeded  in  the  case  of  an 
elder  brother;  namely,  sending  him  to  an  English 
school.  She  explained  that  at  various  schools  in 
Paris  this  elder  brother  had  proved  utterly  untract- 
able;  that  in  despair  they  had  followed  the  advice 


EFFECTS  OP  CHASTISEMENT.  213 

to  send  him  to  England;  and  that  on  his  return 
home  he  was  as  good  as  he  had  before  been  bad. 
And  this  remarkable  change  she  ascribed  entirely 
to  the  comparative  mildness  of  the  English  disci- 
pline. 

After  this  exposition  of  principles,  our  remain- 
ing space  may  best  be  occupied  by  a  few  of  the  chief 
maxims  and  rules  deducible  from  them;  and  with 
a  view  to  brevity  we  will  put  these  in  a  more  or  less 
hortatory  form. 

Do  not  expect  from  a  child  any  great  amount  of 
moral  goodness.  During  early  years  every  civil- 
ized man  passes  through  that  phase  of  character 
exhibited  by  the  barbarous  race  from  w^hich  he  is 
descended.  As  the  child's  features — flat  nose,  for- 
ward-opening nostrils,  large  lips,  wide-apart  eyes, 
absent  frontal  sinus,  &c. — resemble  for  a  time  those 
of  the  savage,  so,  too,  do  his  instincts.  Hence  the 
tendencies  to  cruelty,  to  thieving,  to  lying,  so  gen- 
eral among  children — tendencies  which,  even  with- 
out the  aid  of  discipline,  will  become  more  or  less 
modified  just  as  the  features  do.  The  popular  idea 
that  children  are  "  innocent,"  while  it  may  be  true 
in  so  far  as  it  refers  to  evil  knowledge,  is  totally 
false  in  so  far  as  it  refers  to  evil  impulses,  as  half 
an  hour's  observation  in  the  nursery  will  prove  to 
any  one.     Boys  when  left  to  themselves,  as  at  a 


214  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

public  school,  treat  each  other  far  more  brutally 
than  men  do;  and  were  they  left  to  themselves  at 
an  earlier  age  their  brutality  would  be  still  more 
conspicuous. 

Not  only  is  it  unwise  to  set  up  a  high  standard 
for  juvenile  good  conduct,  but  it  is  even  unwise  to 
use  very  urgent  incitements  to  such  good  conduct. 
Already  most  people  recognise  the  detrimental  re- 
sults of  intellectual  precocity;  but  there  remains  to 
be  recognised  the  truth  that  there  is  a  moral  pre- 
cocity which  is  also  detrimental.  Our  higher 
moral  faculties,,  like  our  higher  intellectual  ones, 
are  comparatively  complex.  By  consequence  they 
are  both  comparatively  late  in  their  evolution. 
And  with  the  one  as  with  the  other,  a  very  early 
activity  produced  by  stimulation  will  be  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  future  character.  Hence  the  not  un- 
common fact  that  those  who  during  childhood  were 
instanced  as  models  of  juvenile  goodness,  by-and-by 
undergo  some  disastrous  and  seemingly  inexplica- 
ble change,  and  end  by  being  not  above  but  below 
par;  while  relatively  exemplary  men  are  often  the 
issue  of  a  childhood  by  no  means  so  promising. 

Be  content,  therefore,  with  moderate  measures 
and  moderate  results.  Constantly  bear  in  mind 
the  fact  that  a  higher  morality,  like  a  higher  intelli- 
gence,  must  be  reached   by  a  slow  growth;  and 


SLOW  EVOLUTION  OF  MORAL  FACULTIES.  215 

you  will  then  have  more  patience  with  those  imper- 
fections of  nature  which  your  child  hourly  displays. 
You  will  be  less  prone  to  that  constant  scolding, 
and  threatening,  and  forbidding,  by  which  many 
parents  induce  a  chronic  domestic  irritation,  in  the 
foolish  hope  that  they  will  thus  make  their  chil- 
dren what  they  should  be. 

This  comparatively  liberal  form  of  domestic 
government,  which  does  not  seek  despotically  to 
regulate  all  the  details  of  a  child's  conduct,  neces- 
sarily results  from  the  system  for  which  we  have 
been  contending.  Satisfy  yoursejf  with  seeing 
that  your  child  always  suffers  the  natural  conse- 
quences of  his  actions,  and  you  will  avoid  that  excess 
of  control  in  which  so  many  parents  err.  Leave 
him  wherever  you  can  to  the  discipline  of  experi- 
ence, and  you  will  so  save  him  from  that  hothouse 
virtue  which  over-regulation  produces  in  yielding 
natures,  or  that  demoralizing  antagonism  which  it 
produces  in  independent  ones. 

By  aiming  in  all  cases  to  administer  the  natural 
reactions  to  your  child's  actions,  you  will  put  an 
advantageous  check  upon  your  own  temper.  The 
method  of  moral  education  pursued  by  many,  we 
fear  by  most,  parents,  is  little  else  than  that  of  vent- 
ing their  anger  in  the  way  that  first  suggests  itself. 
The  slaps,  and  rough  shakings,  and  sharp  words, 


216  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

with  which  a  mother  commonly  visits  her  off- 
spring's small  offences  (many  of  them  not  offences 
considered  intrinsically),  are  very  generally  but 
the  manifestations  of  her  own  ill-controlled  feelings 
— result  much  more  from  the  promptings  of  those 
feelings  than  from  a  wish  to  benefit  the  offenders. 
While  they  are  injurious  to  her  own  character, 
these  ebullitions  tend,  by  alienating  her  children 
and  by  decreasing  their  respect  for  her,  to  diminish 
her  influence  over  them.  But  by  pausing  in  each 
case  of  transgression  to  consider  what  is  the  natural 
consequence,  and  how  that  natural  consequence 
may  best  be  brought  home  to  the  transgressor, 
some  little  time  is  necessarily  obtained  for  the 
mastery  of  yourself;  the  mere  blind  anger  first 
aroused  in  you  settles  down  into  a  less  vehement 
feeling,  and  one  not  so  likely  to  mislead  you. 

Do  not,  however,  seek  to  behave  as  an  utterly 
passionless  instrument.  Remember  that  besides 
the  natural  consequences  of  your  child's  conduct 
which  the  working  of  things  tends  to  bring  round 
on  him,  your  own  approbation  or  disapprobation  is 
also  a  natural  consequence,  and  one  of  the  ordained 
agencies  for  guiding  him.  The  error  which  we 
have  been  combating  is  that  of  substituting  pa- 
rental displeasure  and  its  artificial  penalties,  for  the 
penalties  which  nature  has  established.     But  while 


CAUTIOUS  USE  OP  PARENTAL  DISPLEASURE.  217 

it  should  not  be  substituted  for  tliese  natural  pen- 
alties, it  by  no  means  follows  that  it  should  not,  in 
some  form,  accompany  them.  The  secondary  kind 
of  punishment  should  not  usurp  the  place  of  the 
primary  kind;  but,  in  moderation,  it  may  rightly 
supplement  the  primary  kind.  Such  amount  of 
disapproval,  or  sorrow,  or  indignation,  as  you  feel, 
should  be  expressed  in  words  or  manner  or  other- 
wise; subject,  of  course,  to  the  approval  of  your 
judgment.  The  degree  and  kind  of  feeling  pro- 
duced in  you  will  necessarily  depend  upon  your 
own  character,  and  it  is  therefore  useless  to  say  it 
should  be  this  or  that.  All  that  can  be  recom- 
mended is,  that  you  should  aim  to  modify  the  feel- 
ing into  that  which  you  believe  ought  to  be  enter- 
tained. Beware,  however,  of  the  two  extremes; 
not  only  in  respect  of  the  intensity,  but  in  respect 
of  the  duration  of  your  displeasure.  On  the  one 
hand,  anxiously  avoid  that  weak  impulsiveness,  so 
general  among  mothers,  which  scolds  and  forgives 
almost  in  the  same  breath.  On  the  other  hand,  do 
not  unduly  continue  to  show  estrangement  of  feel- 
ing, lest  you  accustom  your  child  to  do  without 
your  friendship,  and  so  lose  your  influence  over 
him.  The  moral  reactions  called  forth  from  you 
by  your  child's  actions,  you   should   as  much   as 

possible   assimilate   to   those   which   you   conceive 
29 


218  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

would  be  called  forth  from  a  parent  of  perfect 
nature. 

Be  sparing  of  commands.  Command  only  in 
those  cases  in  which  other  means  are  inapplicable, 
or  have  failed.  "  In  frequent  orders  the  parents' 
advantage  is  more  considered  than  the  child's,"  says 
Richter.  As  in  primitive  societies  a  breach  of  law 
is  punished,  not  so  much  because  it  is  intrinsically 
wrong  as  because  it  is  a  disregard  of  the  king's 
authority — a  rebellion  against  him;  so  in  many 
families,  the  penalty  visited  on  a  transgressor  pro- 
ceeds less  from  reprobation  of  the  offence  than  from 
anger  at  the  disobedience.  Listen  to  the  ordinary 
speeches — "  How  dare  you  disobey  me?  "  "  I  tell 
you  I'll  make  you  do  it,  sir."  "  I'll  soon  teach  you 
who  is  master  "^ — and  then  consider  what  the  words, 
the  tone,  and  the  manner  imply.  A  determination 
to  subjugate  is  much  more  conspicuous  in  them 
than  an  anxiety  for  the  child's  welfare.  For  the 
time  being  the  attitude  of  mind  differs  but  little 
.from  that  of  the  despot  bent  on  punishing  a  recalci- 
trant subject.  The  right-feeling  parent,  however, 
like  the  philanthropic  legislator,  will  not  rejoice  in 
coercion,  but  will  rejoice  in  dispensing  with  coer- 
cion. He  will  do  without  law  in  all  cases  where 
other  modes  of  regulating  conduct  can  be  success- 
fully  employed;  and   he    will   regret    the    having 


WISE  PENALTIES,   BUT   INEVITABLE.       219 

recourse  to  law  when  it  is  necessary.  As  Richter 
remarks — "  The  best  rule  in  politics  is  said  to  be 
'  pas  trop  gouverner: '  it  is  also  true  in  education." 
And  in  spontaneous  conformity  with  this  maxim, 
parents  whose  lust  of  dominion  is  restrained  by  a 
true  sense  of  duty,  will  aim  to  make  their  children 
control  themselves  wherever  it  is  possible,  and  will 
fall  back  upon  absolutism  only  as  a  last  resort. 

But  whenever  you  do  command,  command  with 
decision  and  consistency.  If  the  case  is  one  which 
really  cannot  be  otherwise  dealt  with,  then  issue 
your  fiat,  and  having  issued  it,  never  afterwards 
swerve  from  it.  Consider  well  beforehand  what 
you  are  going  to  do;  weigh  all  the  consequences; 
think  whether  your  firmness  of  purpose  will  be 
sufiicient;  and  then,  if  you  finally  make  the  law, 
enforce  it  uniformly  at  whatever  cost.  Let  your 
penalties  be  like  the  penalties  inflicted  by  inani- 
mate nature — inevitable.  The  hot  cinder  burns  a 
child  the  first  time  he  seizes  it;  it  burns  him  the 
second  time;  it  burns  him  the  third  time;  it  burns 
him  every  time;  and  he  very  soon  learns  not  to 
touch  the  hot  cinder.  If  you  are  equally  consist- 
ent— if  the  consequences  which  you  tell  your  child 
will  follow  certain  acts,  follow  with  like  uniform- 
ity, he  will  soon  come  to  respect  your  laws  as  he 
does  those  of  ISTature.     And  this  respect  once  estab- 


220  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

lished  will  prevent  endless  domestic  evils.  Of 
errors  in  education  one  of  the  worst  is  that  of  incon- 
sistency. As  in  a  community,  crimes  multiply 
when  there  is  no  certain  administration  of  justice; 
so  in  a  family,  an  immense  increase  of  transgressions 
results  from  a  hesitating  or  irregular  infliction  of 
penalties.  A  weak  mother,  who  perpetually  threat- 
ens and  rarely  performs — who  makes  rules  in  haste 
and  repents  of  them  at  leisure — who  treats  the  same 
offence  now  with  severity  and  now  with  leniency, 
according  as  the  passing  humour  dictates,  is  laying 
up  miseries  both  for  herself  and  her  children.  She 
is  making  herself  contemptible  in  their  eyes;  she 
is  setting  them  an  example  of  uncontrolled  feelings; 
she  is  encouraging  them  to  transgress  by  the  pros- 
pect of  probable  impunity;  she  is  entailing  end- 
less squabbles  and  accompanying  damage  to  her 
own  temper  and  the  tempers  of  her  little  ones;  she 
is  reducing  their  minds  to  a  moral  chaos,  which 
after-years  of  bitter  experience  will  with  difficulty 
bring  into  order.  Better  even  a  barbarous  form 
of  domestic  government  carried  out  consistently, 
than  a  humane  one  inconsistently  carried  out. 
Again  we  say,  avoid  coercive  measures  whenever 
it  is  possible  to  do  so;  but  when  you  find  despotism 
really  necessary,  be  despotic  in  good  earnest. 

Bear  constantly  in  mind  the  truth  that  the  aim 


PROGRESSIVE  NEED  OP  SELF-GOVERNMENT.  221 

of  your  discipline  should  be  to  produce  a  self-gov- 
erning being;  not  to  produce  a  being  to  be  gov- 
er7ied  by  others.  Were  your  children  fated  to  pass 
their  lives  as  slaves,  you  could  not  too  much  accus- 
tom them  to  slavery  during  their  childhood;  but  as 
they  are  by-and-by  to  be  free  men,  with  no  one  to 
control  their  daily  conduct,  you  cannot  too  much 
accustom  them  to  self-control  while  they  are  still 
under  your  eye.  This  it  is  which  makes  the  sys- 
tem of  discipline  by  natural  consequences,  so  espe- 
cially appropriate  to  the  social  state  which  we  in 
England  have  now  reached.  Under  early,  tyran- 
nical forms  of  society,  when  one  of  the  chief  evils 
the  citizen  had  to  fear  was  the  anger  of  his  supe- 
riors, it  was  well  that  during  childhood  parental 
vengeance  should  be  a  predominant  means  of  gov- 
ernment. But  now  that  the  cifizen  has  little  to 
fear  from  any  one — now  that  the  good  or  evil  which 
he  experiences  throughout  life  is  mainly  that  which 
in  the  nature  of  things  results  from  his  own  con- 
duct, it  is  desirable  that  from  his  first  years  he 
should  begin  to  learn,  experimentally,  the  good  or 
evil  consequences  which  naturally  follow  this  or 
that  conduct.  Aim,  therefore,  to  diminish  the 
amount  of  parental  government  as  fast  as  you  can 
substitute  for  it  in  your  child's  mind  that  self-gov- 
ernment arising  from  a  foresight  of  results.     In  in- 


222  •  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

fancy  a  considerable  amount  of  absolutism  is  ne- 
cessary. A  three-year  old  urchin  playing  with  an 
open  razor,  cannot  be  allowed  to  learn  by  this  disci- 
pline of  consequences;  for  the  consequences  may, 
in  such  a  case,  be  too  serious.  But  as  intelligence 
increases,  the  number  of  instances  calling  for  per- 
emptory interference  may  be,  and  should  be,  di- 
minished; with  the  view  of  gradually  ending  them 
as  maturity  is  approached.  All  periods  of  transi- 
tion are  dangerous;  and  the  most  dangerous  is  the 
transition  from  the  restraint  of  the  family  circle  to 
the  non-restraint  of  the  world.  Hence  the  impor- 
tance of  pursuing  the  policy  we  advocate;  which, 
alike  by  cultivating  a  child's  faculty  of  self-re- 
straint, by  continually  increasing  the  degree  in 
which  it  is  left  to  its  self-constraint,  and  by  so  bring- 
ing it,  step  by  step,  to  a  state  of  unaided  self-re- 
straint, obliterates  the  ordinary  sudden  and  hazard- 
ous change  from  externally-governed  youth  to  inter- 
nally-governed maturity.  Let  the  history  of  your 
domestic  rule  typify,  in  little,  the  history  of  our 
political  rule:  at  the  outset,  autocratic  control, 
where  control  is  really  needful;  by-and-by  an  in- 
cipient constitutionalism,  in  Avhicli  the  liberty  of  the 
subject  gains  some  express  recognition;  successive 
extensions  of  this  liberty  of  the  subject;  gradually 
ending  in  parental  abdication. 


NECESSITY  OP  PARENTAL  DISCRIMINATION.  223 

Do  not  regret  the  exhibition  of  considerable 
self-will  on  the  part  of  your  children.  It  is  the 
correlative  of  that  diminished  coerciveness  so  con- 
spicuous in  modern  education.  The  greater  ten- 
dency to  assert  freedom  of  action  on  the  one  side, 
corresponds  to  the  smaller  tendency  to  tyrannize  on 
the  other.  They  both  indicate  an  approach  to  the 
system  of  discipline  we  contend  for,  under  which 
children  will  be  more  and  more  led  to  rule  them- 
selves by  the  experience  of  natural  consequences; 
and  they  are  both  the  accompaniments  of  our  more 
advanced  social  state.  The  independent  English 
boy  is  the  father  of  the  independent  English  man; 
and  you  cannot  have  the  last  without  the  first. 
German  teachers  say  that  they  had  rather  manage 
a  dozen  German  boys  than  one  English  one.  Shall 
we,  therefore,  wish  that  our  boys  had  the  managea- 
bleness  of  the  German  ones,  and  with  it  the  sub- 
missiveness  and  political  serfdom  of  adult  Ger- 
mans? Or  shall  we  not  rather  tolerate  in  our  boys 
those  feelings  which  make  them  free  men,  and 
modify  our  methods  accordingly? 

Lastly,  always  remember  that  to  educate  rightly 
is  not  a  simple  and  easy  thing,  but  a  complex  and 
extremely  difiicult  thing:  the  hardest  task  which 
devolves  upon  adult  life.  The  rough  and  ready 
style  of  domestic  government  is  indeed  practicable 


224  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

by  the  meanest  and  most  uncultivated  intellects. 
Slaps  and  sharp  words  are  penalties  that  suggest 
themselves  alike  to  the  least  reclaimed  barbarian 
and  the  most  stolid  peasant.  Even  brutes  can  use 
this  method  of  discipline;  as  you  may  see  in  the 
growl  and  half-bite  with  which  a  bitch  will  check 
a  too-exigeant  puppy.  But  if  you  would  carry  out 
with  success  a  rational  and  civilized  system,  you 
must  be  prepared  for  considerable  mental  exertion 
— for  some  study,  some  ingenuity,  some  patience, 
some  self-control.  You  will  have  habitually  to 
trace  the  consequences  of  conduct — to  consider 
what  are  the  results  which  in  adult  life  follow  cer- 
tain kind  of  acts;  and  then  you  will  have  to  de- 
vise methods  by  which  parallel  results  shall  be  en- 
tailed on  the  parallel  acts  of  your  children.  You 
will  daily  be  called  upon  to  analyze  the  motives 
of  juvenile  conduct :  you  must  distinguish  between 
acts  that  are  really  good  and  those  which,  though 
externally  simulating  them,  proceed  from  inferior 
impulses;  while  you  must  be  ever  on  your  guard 
against  the  cruel  mistake  not  unfrequently  made, 
of  translating  neutral  acts  into  transgressions,  or 
ascribing  worse  feelings  than  were  entertained. 
You  must  more  or  less  modify  your  method  to  suit 
the  disposition  of  each  child;  and  must  be  prepared 
to  make  further  modifications  as  each  child's  dis- 


THE  HIGH  DISCIPLINE  OF  PARENTHOOD.      225 

position  enters  on  a  new  phase.  Your  faith  will 
often  be  taxed  to  maintain  the  requisite  persever- 
ance in  a  course  which  seems  to  produce  little  or 
no  effect.  Especially  if  you  are  dealing  with  chil- 
dren who  have  been  wrongly  treated,  you  must  be 
prepared  for  a  lengthened  trial  of  patience  before 
succeeding  with  better  methods;  seeing  that  which 
is  not  easy  even  where  a  right  state  of  feeling  has 
been  established  from  the  beginning,  becomes 
doubly  difficult  when  a  wrong  state  of  feeling  has  to 
be  set  right.  !N^ot  only  will  you  have  constantly  to 
analyze  the  motives  of  your  children,  but  you  will 
have  to  analyze  your  own  motives — to  discriminate 
between  those  internal  suggestions  springing  from 
a  true  parental  solicitude,  and  those  which  spring 
from  your  own  selfishness,  from  your  love  of  ease, 
from  your  lust  of  dominion.  And  then,  more  try- 
ing still,  you  will  have  not  only  to  detect,  but  to 
curb  these  baser  impulses.  In  brief,  you  will  have 
to  carry  on  your  higher  education  at  the  same  time 
that  you  are  educating  your  children.  Intellectu- 
ally you  must  cultivate  to  good  purpose  that  most 
complex  of  subjects — human  nature  and  its  laws, 
as  exhibited  in  your  children,  in  yourself,  and  in 
the  world.  Morally,  you  must  keep  in  constant  ex- 
ercise your  higher  feelings,  and  restrain  your  lower. 
It  is  a  truth  yet  remaining  to  be  recognized,  that 


226  MORAL  EDUCATION. 

the  last  stage  in  the  mental  development  of  each 
man  and  woman  is  to  be  reached  only  through  the 
proper  discharge  of  the  parental  duties.  And  when 
this  truth  is  recognised,  it  will  be  seen  how  ad- 
mirable is  the  ordination  in  virtue  of  which  hu- 
man beings  are  led  by  tlicir  strongest  affections  to 
subject  themselves  to  a  discipline  which  they  would 
else  elude. 

While  some  will  probably  regard  this  concep- 
tion of  education  as  it  should  be,  with  doubt  and 
discouragement,  others  will,  we  think,  perceive  in 
the  exalted  ideal  which  it  involves,  evidence  of  its 
truth.  That  it  cannot  be  realized  by  the  impulsive, 
the  unsympathetic,  and  the  short-sighted,  but  de- 
mands the  higher  attributes  of  human  nature,  they 
will  see  to  be  evidence  of  its  fitness  for  the  more 
advanced  states  of  humanity.  Though  it  calls  for 
much  labour  and  self-sacrifice,  they  will  see  that 
it  promises  an  abundant  return  of  happiness,  im- 
mediate and  remote.  They  will  see  that  while  in 
its  injurious  effects  on  both  parent  and  child  a  bad 
system  is  twice  cursed,  a  good  system  is  twice  blessed 
— it  blesses  him  that  trains  and  him  that's  trained. 

It  will  be  seen  that  we  have  said  nothing  in 
this  Chapter  about  the  transcendental  distinction 
between  right  and  wrong,  of  which  wise  men  know 
so  little,  and  children  nothing.     All  thinkersi  are 


THE  HIGH  DISCIPLINE  OF  PARENTHOOD.      227 

agreed  that  we  may  find  the  criterion  of  right  in 
the  effect  of  actions,  if  we  do  not  find  the  rule 
there;  and  that  is  sufiicient  for  the  purpose  we 
have  had  in  view.  Xor  have  we  introduced  the 
religious  element.  We  have  confined  our  inquiries 
to  a  nearer,  and  a  much  more  neglected  field, 
though  a  very  important  one.  Our  readers  may 
supplement  our  thoughts  in  any  w^ay  they  please; 
we  are  only  concerned  that  they  should  be  accepted 
as  far  as  they  go. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

PHYSICAL    EDUCATION. 

-  Equally  at  the  squire's  table  after  the  with- 
drawal of  the  ladies,  at  the  farmers'  market-ordi- 
nary, and  at  the  village  ale-house,  the  topic  which,  • 
after  the  political  question  of  the  day,  excites  per- 
haps the  most  general  interest,  is  the  management 
of  animals.  Riding  home  from  hunting,  the  con- 
versation is  pretty  sure  to  gravitate  towards  horse- 
breeding  and  pedigrees,  and  comments  on  this  or 
that  '  good  point ;  '  while  a  day  on  the  moors  is 
very  unlikely  to  pass  without  something  being  said 
on  the  treatment  of  dogs.  When  crossing  the 
fields  together  from  church,  the  tenants  of  adjacent 
farms  are  apt  to  pass  from  criticisms  on  the  sermon 
to  criticisms  on  the  weather,  the  crops,  and  the 
stock;  and  thence  to  slide  into  discussions  on  the 
various  kinds  of  fodder  and  their  feeding  qualities. 
Hodge  and  Giles,  after  comparing  notes  over  their 
respective  pig-styes,   show  by  their  remarks  that 

they  have  been  more  or  less  observant  of  their  mas- 
228 


IMPROVEMENT  OF  INFERIOR  ANIMALS.     229 

ters'  beasts  and  sheep;  and  of  the  effects  produced 
on  them  by  this  or  that  kind  of  treatment.  ISTor 
is  it  only  among  the  rural  population  that  the  regu- 
lations of  the  kennel,  the  stable,  the  cow-shed,  and 
the  sheep-pen,  are  favourite  subjects.  In  towns, 
too,  the  numerous  artisans  who  keep  dogs,  the 
young  men  who  are  rich  enough  to  now  and  then 
indulge  their  sporting  tendencies,  and  their  more 
staid  seniors  who  talk  over  agricultural  progress 
or  read  Mr.  Mechi's  annual  reports  and  Mr.  Caird's 
letters  to  the  Times,  form,  when  added  together, 
a  large  portion  of  the  inhabitants.  Take  the  adult 
males  throughout  the  kingdom,  and  a  great  major- 
ity will  be  found  to  show  some  interest  in  the  breed- 
ing, rearing,  or  training  of  animals,  of  one  kind  or 
other. 

But,  during  after-dinner  conversations,  or  at 
other  times  of  like  intercourse,  who  hears  anything 
said  about  the  rearing  of  children?  When  the 
country  gentleman  has  paid  his  daily  visit  to  the 
stable,  and  personally  inspected  the  condition  and 
treatment  of  his  horses;  when  he  has  glanced  at 
his  minor  live  stock,  and  given  directions  about 
them;  how  often  does  he  go  up  to  the  nursery  and 
examine  into  its  dietary,  its  hours,  its  ventilation? 
On  his  library  shelves  may  be  found  White's  Far- 
riery, Stephen's  Book  of  the  Farm,  ISTimrod  on  the 


230  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

Condition  of  Hunters;  and  with  the  contents  of 
these  he  is  more  or  less  familiar;  but  how  many 
books  has  he  read  on  the  management  of  infancy 
and  childhood?  The  fattening  properties  of  oil- 
cake, the  relative  values  of  hay  and  chopped  straw, 
the  dangers  of  unlimited  clover,  are  points  on  which 
every  landlord,  farmer,  and  peasant  has  some 
knowledge;  but  what  proportion  of  them  know 
much  about  the  qualities  of  the  food  they  give  their 
children,  and  its  fitness  to  the  constitutional  needs 
of  growing  boys  and  girls?  Perhaps  the  business 
interests  of  these  classes  will  be  assigned  as  account- 
ing for  this  anomaly.  The  explanation  is  inade- 
quate, however;  seeing  that  the  same  contrast  holds 
more  or  less  among  other  classes.  Of  a  score  of 
townspeople  few,  if  any,  would  prove  ignorant  of 
the  fact  that  it  is  undesirable  to  work  a  horse  soon 
after  it  has  eaten;  and  yet,  of  this  same  score,  sup- 
posing them  all  to  be  fathers,  probably  not  one 
would  be  found  who  had  considered  whether  the 
time  elapsing  between  his  children's  dinner  and 
their  resumption  of  lessons  was  sufficient.  Indeed, 
on  cross-examination,  nearly  every  man  would  dis- 
close the  latent  opinion  that  the  regimen  of  the 
nursery  was  no  concern  of  his.  "  Oh,  I  leave  all 
those  things  to  the  women,"  would  probably  be  the 
reply.     And  in  most  cases  the  tone  and  manner  of 


IMPROVEMENT  OF  INFERIOR  ANIMALS.    231 

this  reply  would  convey  the  implication,  that  such 
cares  are  not  consistent  with  masculine  dignity. 

Consider  the  fact  from  any  but  the  conven- 
tional point  of  view,  and  it  will  seera  strange  that 
while  the  raising  of  first-rate  bullocks  is  an  occupa- 
tion on  which  men  of  education  willingly  bestow 
much  time,  inquiry,  and  thought,  the  bringing  up 
of  fine  human  beings  is  an  occupation  tacitly  voted 
unworthy  of  their  attention.  Mammas  who  have 
been  taught  little  but  languages,  music,  and  accom- 
plishments, aided  by  nurses  full  of  antiquated  pre- 
judices, are  held  competent  regulators  of  the  food, 
clothing,  and  exercise  of  children.  Meanwhile  the 
fathers  read  books  and  periodicals,  attend  agricul- 
tural meetings,  try  experiments,  and  engage  in  dis- 
cussions, all  with  the  view  of  discovering  how  to 
fatten  prize  pigs!  Infinite  pains  will  be  taken  to 
produce  a  racer  that  shall  win  the  Derby:  none  to 
produce  a  modern  athlete.  Had  Gulliver  narrated 
of  the  Laputans  that  the  men  vied  with  each  other 
in  learning  how  best  to  rear  the  offspring  of  other 
creatures,  and  were  careless  of  learning  how  best  to 
rear  their  own  offspring,  he  would  have  paralleled 
any  of  the  other  absurdities  he  ascribes  to  them. 

The  matter  is  a  serious  one,  however.  Ludi- 
crous as  is  the  antithesis,  the  fact  it  expresses  is  not 
less  disastrous.     As  remarks  a  suggestive  writer, 


232  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

the  first  requisite  to  success  in  life  is  "  to  be  a  good 
animal;  "  and  to  be  a  nation  of  good  animals  is  the 
first  condition  to  national  prosperity.  Not  only  is 
it  that  the  event  of  a  war  turns  on  the  strength 
and  hardiness  of  soldiers;  but  it  is  that  the  con- 
tests of  commerce  are  in  part  determined  by 
the  bodily  endurance  of  producers.  Thus  far  we 
have  found  no  reason  to  fear  trials  of  strength  with 
other  races  in  either  of  these  fields.  But  there  are 
not  wanting  signs  that  our  j^owers  will  presently  be 
taxed  to  the  uttermost.  Already  under  the  keen" 
competition  of  modern  life,  the  application  required 
of  almost  every  one  is  such  as  few  can  bear  without 
more  or  less  injury.  Already  thousands  break 
down  under  the  high  pressure  they  are  subject  to. 
If  this  pressure  continues  to  increase,  as  it  seems 
likely  to  do,  it  will  try  severely  all  but  the  soundest 
constitutions.  Hence  it  is  becoming  of  especial 
importance  that  the  training  of  children  should  be 
so  carried  on,  as  not  only  to  fit  them  mentally  for 
the  struggle  before  them,  but  also  to  make  them 
physically  fit  to  bear  its  excessive  wear  and  tear. 

Happily  the  matter  is  beginning  to  attract  at- 
tention. The  writings  of  Mr.  Kingsley  indicate  a 
reaction  against  over-culture;  carried,  as  reactions 
usually  are,  somewhat  too  far.  Occasional  letters 
and  leaders  in  the  newspapers  have  shown  an  awak- 


SCHOOL  OF   "MUSCULAR  CHRISTIANITY.   233 

ening  interest  in  physical  training.  And  the  for- 
mation of  a  school,  significantly  nicknamed  that 
of  "  muscular  Christianity,"  implies  a  growing 
opinion  that  our  present  methods  of  bringing  up 
children  do  not  sufficiently  regard  the  welfare  of  the 
body.     The  topic  is  evidently  ripe  for  discussion. 

To  conform  the  regimen  of  the  nursery  and  the 
school  to  the  established  truths  of  modern  science — 
this  is  the  desideratum.  It  is  time  that  the  benefits 
which  our  sheep  and  oxen  have  for  years  past  de- 
rived from  the  investigations  of  the  laboratory, 
should  be  participated  in  by  our  children.  With- 
out calling  in  question  the  great  importance  of 
horse-training  and  pig-feeding,  we  would  suggest 
that,  as  the  rearing  of  well-grown  men  and  women 
is  also  of  some  moment,  the  conclusions  indicated 
by  theory,  and  endorsed  by  practice,  ought  to  be 
acted  on  in  the  last  case  as  in  the  first.  Probably 
not  a  few  will  be  startled — perhaps  offended — by 
this  collocation  of  ideas.  But  it  is  a  fact  not  to  be 
disputed,  and  to  which  we  had  best  reconcile  our- 
selves, that  man  is  subject  to  the  same  organic 
laws  as  inferior  creatures.  ISTo  anatomist,  no  phys- 
iologist, no  chemist,  will  for  a  moment  hesitate  to 
assert,  that  the  general  principles  which  rule  over 
the  vital  processes  in  animals  equally  rule  over  the 
vital  processes  in  man.     And  a  candid  admission 

31 


234:  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

of  this  fact  is  not  without  its  reward:  namely,  that 
the  truths  established  by  observation  and  experi- 
ment on  brutes,  become  more  or  less  available  for 
human  guidance.  Rudimentary  as  is  the  Science 
of  Life,  it  has  already  attained  to  certain  funda- 
mental principles  underlying  the  development  of 
all  organisms,  the  human  included.  That  which 
has  now  to  be  done,  and  that  which  we  shall  en- 
deavour in  some  measure  to  do,  is  to  show  the  bear- 
ing of  these  fundamental  principles  upon  the  phys- 
ical training  of  childhood  and  youth. 

The  rhythmical  tendency  which  is  traceable  in 
all  departments  of  social  life — which  is  illustrated 
in  the  access  of  despotism  after  revolution,  or, 
among  ourselves,  in  the  alternation  of  reforming 
epochs  and  conservative  epochs — which,  after  a  dis- 
solute age,  brings  an  age  of  ascetism,  and  converse- 
ly— which,  in  commerce,  produces  the  regularly 
recurring  inflations  and  panics — which  carries  the 
devotees  of  fashion  from  the  one  absurd  extreme  to 
the  opposite  one; — this  rhythmical  tendency  affects 
also  our  table-habits,  and  by  implication,  the  diet- 
ary of  the  young.  After  a  period  distinguished 
by  hard  drinking  and  hard  eating,  has  come  a  period 
of  comparative  sobriety,  which,  in  teetotalism  and 
vegetarianism,  exhibits  extreme  forms  of  its  protest 


DIETARY  REACTIONS.  235 

against  the  riotous  living  of  the  past.  And  along 
with  this  change  in  the  regimen  of  adults,  has  come 
a  parallel  change  in  the  regimen  for  boys  and  girls. 
In  past  generations,  the  belief  was,  that  the  more  a 
child  could  be  induced  to  eat,  the  better;  and  even 
now,  among  farmers  and  in  remote  districts,  where 
traditional  ideas  most  linger,  parents  may  be  found 
who  tempt  their  children  to  gorge  themselves.  But 
among  the  educated  classes,  who  chiefly  display  this 
reaction  towards  abstemiousness,  there  may  be  seen 
a  decided  leaning  to  the  under-feeding,  rather  than 
the  over-feeding  of  children.  Indeed  their  disgust 
for  bygone  animalism,  is  more  clearly  shown  in  the 
treatment  of  their  offspring  than  in  the  treatment 
of  themselves;  seeing  that  while  their  disguised 
asceticism  is,  in  so  far  as  their  personal  conduct  is 
concerned,  kept  in  check  by  their  appetites,  it  has 
full  play  in  legislating  for  juveniles. 

That  over-feeding  and  under-feeding  are  both 
bad,  is  a  truism.  Of  the  two,  however,  the  last  is 
the  worst.  As  writes  a  high  authority,  "  the  effects 
of  casual  repletion  are  less  prejudicial,  and  more 
easily  corrected,  than  those  of  inanition."  ^  Add 
to  which,  that  where  there  has  been  no  injudicious 
interference,  repletion  will  seldom  occur.  "  Ex- 
cess is  the  vice  rather  of  adults  than  of  the  young, 
*  Cydopcedia  of  Practical  Medicine. 


236  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

who  are  rarely  either  gourmands  or  epicures,  un- 
less through  the  fault  of  those  who  rear  them."  * 
This  system  of  restriction  which  many  parents  think 
so  necessary,  is  based  upon  very  inadequate  observa- 
tion, and  very  erroneous  reasoning.  There  is  an 
over-legislation  in  the  nursery,  as  well  as  an  over- 
legislation  in  the  State;  and  one  of  the  most  injuri- 
ous forms  of  it  is  this  limitation  in  the  quantity  of 
food. 

"  But  are  children  to  be  allowed  to  surfeit  them- 
selves? Shall  they  be  suffered  to  take  their  fill  of 
dainties  and  make  themselves  ill,  as  they  certainly 
will  do?  "  As  thus  put,  the  question  admits  of  but 
one  reply.  But  as  thus  put  it  assumes  the  point  at 
issue.  We  contend  that,  as  appetite  is  a  good  guide 
to  all  the  lower  creation — as  it  is  a  good  guide  to 
the  infant — as  it  is  a  good  guide  to  the  invalid — as 
it  is  a  good  guide  to  the  differently-placed  races  of 
men,  and  as  it  is  a  good  guide  for  every  adult  who 
leads  a  healthful  life ;  it  may  safely  be  inferred  that 
it  is  a  good  guide  for  childhood.  It  would  be 
strange  indeed  were  it  here  alone  untrustworthy. 

Probably  not  a  few  will  read  this  reply  with 
some  impatience;  being  able,  as  they  think,  to  cite 
facts  totally  at  variance  with  it.  It  will  appear  ab- 
surd if  we  deny  the  relevancy  of  these  facts;  and 
*  Cyclopcedia  of  Practical  Medicine. 


GUIDANCE  OF  APPETITE  IN   CHILDHOOD.  237 

yet  the  paradox  is  quite  defensible.  The  truth  is, 
that  the  instances  of  excess  which  such  persons  have 
in  mind,  are  usually  the  consequences  of  the  re- 
strictive system  they  seem  to  justify.  They  are 
the  sensual  reactions  caused  by  a  more  or  less  asce- 
tic regimen.  They  illustrate  on  a  small  scale  that 
commonly  remarked  fact,  that  those  who  during 
youth  have  been  subject  to  the  most  rigorous  disci- 
pline, are  apt  afterwards  to  rush  into  the  wildest  ex- 
travagances. They  are  analogous  to  those  fright- 
ful phenomena,  once  not  uncommon  in  convents, 
where  nuns  suddenly  lapsed  from  the  extremest 
austerities  into  an  almost  demoniac  wickedness. 
They  simply  exhibit  the  uncontrollable  vehemence 
of  a  long-denied  desire.  Consider  the  ordinary 
tastes  and  the  ordinary  treatment  of  children. 
The  love  of  sweets  is  conspicuous  and  almost  uni- 
versal among  them.  Probably  ninety-nine  people 
in  a  hundred,  presume  that  there  is  nothing 
more  in  this  than  gratification  of  the  palate; 
and  that,  in  common  with  other  sensual  desires, 
it  should  be  discouraged.  The  physiologist,  how- 
ever, whose  discoveries  lead  him  to  an  ever-in- 
creasing reverence  for  the  arrangements  of  things, 
will  suspect  that  there  is  something  more  in  this 
love  of  sweets  than  the  current  hypothesis  supposes; 
and  a  little  inquiry  confirms  the  suspicion.     Any 


238  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

work  on  organic  chemistry  shows  that  sugar  plays 
an  important  part  in  the  vital  processes.  Both  sac- 
charine and  fatty  matters  are  eventually  oxidized  in 
the  body;  and  there  is  an  accompanying  evolution 
of  heat.  Sugar  is  the  form  to  which  sundry  other 
compounds  have  to  be  reduced  before  they  are  avail- 
able as  heat-making  food;  and  this  formatio7i  of 
sugar  is  carried  on  in  the  body.  Not  only  is  starch 
changed  into  sugar  in  the  course  of  digestion,  but  it 
has  been  proved  by  M.  Claude  Bernard  that  the 
liver  is  a  factory  in  which  other  constituents  of  food 
are  transformed  into  sugar.  Now,  when  to  the  fact 
that  children  have  a  marked  desire  for  this  valuable 
heat-food,  we  join  the  fact  that  they  have  usually  a 
marked  dislike  to  that  food  which  gives  out  the 
greatest  amount  of  heat  during  its  oxidation  (name- 
ly, fat),  we  shall  see  strong  reason  for  thinking  that 
excess  of  the  one  compensates  for  defect  of  the  other 
— that  the  organism  demands  more  sugar  because 
it  cannot  deal  with  much  fat.  Again,  children  are 
usually  very  fond  of  vegetable  acids.  Fruits  of  all 
kinds  are  their  deliglit;  and,  in  the  absence  of  any- 
thing better,  they  will  devour  unripe  gooseberries 
and  the  sourest  of  crabs.  Now,  not  only  are  vegeta- 
ble acids,  in  common  with  mineral  ones,  very  good 
tonics,  and  beneficial  as  such  when  taken  in  modera- 
tion; but  they  have,  when  administered  in  their 


RESTRICTED  DIET  PROVOKES  EXCESS.      239 

natural  forms,  other  advantages.  "  Ripe  fruit," 
says  Dr.  Andrew  Combe,  "  is  more  freely  given  on 
the  Continent  than  in  this  country;  and,  particu- 
larly when  the  bowels  act  imperfectly,  it  is  often 
very  useful."  See,  then,  the  discord  between  the 
'instinctive  wants  of  children  and  their  habitual 
treatment.  Here  are  two  dominant  desires,  which 
there  is  good  reason  to  believe  express  certain  needs 
of  the  juvenile  constitution;  and  not  only  are  they 
ignored  in  the  nursery  regimen,  but  there  is  a  gen- 
eral tendency  to  forbid  the  gratification  of  them. 
Bread-and-milk  in  the  morning,  tea  and  bread-and- 
biitter,  or  some  dietary  equally  insipid,  is  rigidly  ad- 
hered to;  and  any  ministration  to  the  palate  is 
thought  not  only  needless  but  wrong.  What  is  the 
necessary  consequence?  When,  on  fete-days  there 
is  an  unlimited  access  to  good  things — wdien  a  gift 
of  pocket-money  brings  the  contents  of  the  confec- 
tioner's window  within  reach,  or  wdien  by  some 
accident  the  free  run  of  a  fruit-garden  is  obtained; 
then  the  long-denied,  and  therefore  intense,  desires 
lead  to  great  excesses.  There  is  an  impromptu 
carnival,  caused  not  only  by  the  release  from  past 
restraints,  but  also  by  the  consciousness  that  a  long 
Lent  will  begin  on  the  morrow.  And  then,  when 
the  evils  of  repletion  display  themselves,  it  is  argued 
that  children  must  not  be  left  to  the  guidance  of 


240  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

their  appetites!  These  disastrous  results  of  artifi- 
cial restrictions,  are  themselves  cited  as  proving 
the  need  for  further  restrictions!  We  contend, 
therefore,  that  the  reasoning  commonly  used  to 
justify  this  system  of  interference  is  vicious.  We 
contend  that,  were  children  allowed  daily  to  par- 
take of  these  more  sapid  edibles,  for  which  there  is 
a  physiological  requirement,  they  would  rarely  ex- 
ceed, as  they  now  mostly  do  when  they  have  the 
opportunity:  were  fruit,  as  Dr.  Combe  recom- 
mends, "  to  constitute  a  part  of  the  regular  food  " 
(given,  as  he  advises,  not  between  meals,  but  along 
with  them),  there  would  be  none  of  that  craving 
which  prompts  the  devouring  of  such  fruits  as  crabs 
and  sloes.     And  similarly  in  other  cases. 

ISTot  only  is  it  that  the  a  priori  reasons  for  trust- 
ing the  appetites  of  children  are  so  strong;  and  that 
the  reasons  assigned  for  distrusting  them  are  in- 
valid; but  it  is  that  no  other  guidance  is  worthy 
of  any  confidence.  What  is  the  value  of  this  pa- 
rental judgment,  set  up  as  an  alternative  regulator? 
When  to  "  Oliver  asking  for  more,"  the  mamma  or 
the  governess  replies  in  the  negative,  on  what  data 
does  she  proceed?  She  iliinlcs  he  has  had  enough. 
But  where  are  her  grounds  for  so  thinking?  Has 
she  some  secret  understanding  with  the  boy's  stom- 
ach— some  clairvoyant  power  enabling  her  to  dis- 


NATURE  AND  INSTINCT  TO  BE  TRUSTED.  241 

cern  the  needs  of  his  body?  If  not,  how  can  she 
safely  decide  ?  Does  she  not  know  that  the  demand 
of  the  system  for  food  is  determined  by  numerous 
and  involved  causes — varies  with  the  temperature, 
with  the  hygrometric  state  of  the  air,  with  the  elec- 
tric state  of  the  air — varies  also  according  to  the 
exercise  taken,  according  to  the  kind  and  quality  of 
food  eaten  at  the  last  meal,  and  according  to  the 
rapidity  with  which  the  last  meal  w^as  digested? 
How  can  she  calculate  the  result  of  such  a  combina- 
tion of  causes?  As  we  heard  said  by  the  father  of 
a  five-years-old  boy,  who  stands  a  head  taller  than 
most  of  his  age,  and  is  proportionately  robust,  rosy, 
and  active: — ''  I  can  see  no  artificial  standard  by 
which  to  mete  out  his  food.  If  I  sa}-,  '  this  much 
is  enough,'  it  is  a  mere  guess;  and  the  guess  is  as 
likely  to  be  wrong  as  right.  Consequently,  having 
no  faith  in  guesses,  I  let  him  cat  his  fill."  And  cer- 
tainly, any  one  judging  of  his  policy  by  its  effects, 
would  be  constrained  to  admit  its  wisdom.  In 
truth,  this  confidence,  with  which  most  parents  take 
upon  themselves  to  legislate  for  the  stomach  of  their 
children,  proves  their  unacquaintance  with  the 
principles  of  physiology:  if  they  knew  more,  they 
w^ould  be  more  modest.  "  The  pride  of  science  is 
humble  when  compared  with  the  pride  of  igno- 
rance."    If  any  one  would  learn  how  little  faith  is 


242  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

to  be  placed  in  human  judgments,  and  how  much 
in  the  pre-established  arrangements  of  things,  let 
him  compare  the  rashness  of  the  inexperienced 
physician  with  the  caution  of  the  most  advanced; 
or  let  him  dij)  into  Sir  John  Forbes'  work,  On 
Nature  and  Art  in  the  cure  of  Disease;  and  he 
will  then  see  that,  in  proportion  as  men  gain  a 
greater  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  life,  they  come 
to  have  less  confidence  in  themselves,  and  more  in 
Nature. 

Turning  from  the  question  of  quantity  of  food 
to  that  of  quality,  we  may  discern  the  same  ascetic 
tendency.  JSTot  simply  a  more  or  less  restricted 
diet,  but  a  comparatively  low  diet,  is  thought  proper 
for  children.  The  current  opinion  is,  that  they 
should  have  but  little  animal  food.  Among  the 
less  wealthy  classes,  economy  seems  to  have  dictated 
this  opinion — the  wish  has  been  father  to  the 
thought.  Parents  not  affording  to  buy  much  meat, 
and  liking  meat  themselves,  answer  the  petitions  of 
juveniles  with — "  Meat  is  not  good  for  little  boys 
and  girls;  "  and  this,  at  first,  probably  nothing  but 
a  convenient  excuse,  has  by  repetition  grown  into 
an  article  of  faith.  AVhilc  the  classes  with  whom 
cost  is  not  a  consideration,  have  been  swayed  partly 
by  the  example  of  the  majority,  partly  by  the  in- 
fluence of  nurses  drawn  from  the  lower  classes,  and 


THE  VERDICT  OF  SCIENCE.  243 

in  some  measure  by  the  reaction  against  past  ani- 
malism. 

If,  however,  we  inquire  for  the  basis  of  this 
opinion,  we  find  little  or  none.  It  is  a  dogma  re- 
peated and  received  without  proof,  like  that  which, 
for  thousands  of  years,  insisted  on  the  necessity  of 
swaddling-clothes.  It  may  indeed  be  true  that,  to 
the  young  child's  stomach,  not  yet  endowed  with 
much  muscular  power,  meat,  which  requires  con- 
siderable trituration  before  it  can  be  made  into 
chyme,  is  an  unfit  aliment.  But  this  objection 
does  not  tell  against  animal  food  from  which  the 
fibrous  part  has  been  extracted;  nor  does  it  apply 
when,  after  the  lapse  of  two  or  three  years,  consider- 
able muscular  vigour  has  been  acquired.  And 
while  the  evidence  in  support  of  this  dogma,  par- 
tially valid  in  the  case  of  very  young  children,  is 
not  valid  in  the  case  of  older  children,  who  are, 
nevertheless,  ordinarily  treated  in  conformity  with 
the  dogma,  the  adverse  evidence  is  abundant  and 
conclusive.  The  verdict  of  science  is  exactly  oppo- 
site to  the  popular  opinion.  We  have  put  the  ques- 
tion to. two  of  our  leading  physicians,  and  to  sev- 
eral of  the  most  distinguished  physiologists,  and 
they  uniformly  agree  in  the  conclusion  that  chil- 
dren should  have  a  diet  not  less  nutritive,  but,  if 
anything,  more  nutritive  than  that  of  adults. 


244  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION". 

The  grounds  for  this  conclusion  are  obvious, 
and  the  reasoning  simple.  It  needs  but  to  compare 
the  vital  processes  of  a  man  with  those  of  a  boy,  to 
see  at  once  that  the  demand  for  sustenance  is  rela- 
tively greater  in  the  boy  than  in  the  man.  What 
are  the  ends  for  which  a  man  requires  food?  Each 
day  his  body  undergoes  more  or  less  wear — wear 
through  muscular  exertion,  wear  of  the  nervous 
system  through  mental  actions,  wear  of  the  viscera 
in  carrying  on  the  functions  of  life;  and  the  tissue 
thus  wasted  has  to  be  renewed.  Each  day,  too,  by 
perpetual  radiation,  his  body  loses  a  large  amount 
of  heat;  and  as,  for  the  continuance  of  the  vital 
actions,  the  temperature  of  the  body  must  be  main- 
tained, this  loss  has  to  bo  compensated  by  a  con- 
stant production  of  heat:  to  which  end  certain  con- 
stituents of  the  food  are  unceasingly  undergoing 
oxidation.  To  make  up  for  the  day's  waste,  and  to 
supply  fuel  for  the  day's  expenditure  of  heat,  are, 
then,  the  sole  purposes  for  which  the  adult  requires 
food.  Consider,  now,  the  case  of  the  boy.  He, 
too,  wastes  the  substance  of  his  body  by  action; 
and  it  ne'eds  but  to  note  his  restless  activity  to  see 
that,  in  proportion  to  his  bulk,  he  probably  wastes 
as  much  as  a  man.  He,  too,  loses  heat  by  radia- 
tion; and  as  his  body  exposes  a  greater  surface  in 
proportion  to  its  mass  than  does  that  of  a  man,  and 


CHILDEEX  REQUIRE  A  NUTRITIVE  DIET.  245 

therefore  loses  heat  more  rapidly,  the  quantity  of 
heat-food  he  requires  is,  bulk  for  bulk,  greater  than 
that  required  by  a  man.  So  that  even  had  the  boy 
no  other  vital  processes  to  carry  on  than  the  man 
has,  he  would  need,  relatively  to  his  size,  a  some- 
what larger  supply  of  nutriment.  But,  besides  re- 
pairing his  body  and  maintaining  its  heat,  the  boy 
has  to  make  new  tissue — to  grow.  After  waste 
and  thermal  loss  have  been  provided  for,  such  sur- 
plus of  nutriment  as  remains,  goes  to  the  further 
building  up  of  the  frame ;  and  only  in  virtue  of  this 
surplus  is  normal  growth  possible — the  growth  that 
sometimes  takes  place  in  the  absence  of  such  sur- 
plus, causing  a  manifest  prostration  consequent 
uj)on  defective  repair.  How  peremptory  is  the  de- 
mand of  the  unfolding  organism  for  materials,  is 
seen  alike  in  that  "  school-boy  hunger,"  which  after- 
life rarely  parallels  in  intensity,  and  in  the  compara- 
tively quick  return  of  appetite.  And  if  there  needs 
further  evidence  of  this  extra  necessity  for  nutri- 
ment, we  have  it  in  the  fact  that,  during  the  fam- 
ines following  shipwrecks  and  other  disasters,  the 
children  are  the  first  to  die. 

This  relatively  greater  need  for  nutriment  be- 
ing admitted,  as  it  must  perforce  be,  the  question 
that  remains  is — shall  we  meet  it  by  giving  an  ex- 
cessive quantity  of  what  may  be  called  dilute  food, 


246  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

or  a  more  moderate  quantity  of  concentrated  food? 
The  nutriment  obtainable  from  a  given  weight  of 
meat  is  obtainable  only  from  a  larger  weight  of 
bread,  or  from  a  still  larger  weight  of  potatoes,  and 
so  on.  To  fulfil  the  requirement,  the  quantity 
must  be  increased  as  the  nutritiveness  is  diminished. 
Shall  we,  then,  respond  to  the  extra  wants  of  the 
growing  child  by  giving  an  adequate  quantity  of 
food  as  good  as  that  of  adults?  Or,  regardless  of 
the  fact  that  its  stomach  has  to  dispose  of  a  relative- 
ly larger  quantity  even  of  this  good  food,  shall  we 
further  tax  it  by  giving  an  inferior  food  in  still 
greater  quantity? 

The  answer  is  tolerably  obvious.  The  more 
the  labour  of  digestion  can  be  economised,  the  more 
energy  is  left  for  the  purposes  of  growth  and  action. 
The  functions  of  the  stomach  and  intestines  cannot 
be  performed  without  a  large  supply  of  blood  and 
nervous  power;  and  in  the  comparative  lassitude 
that  follows  a  hearty  meal,  every  adult  has  proof 
that  this  supply  of  blood  and  nervous  power  is  at 
the  expense  of  the  system  at  large.  If  the  requisite 
nutriment  is  furnished  by  a  great  quantity  of  innu- 
tritions food,  more  work  is  entailed  on  the  viscera 
than  when  it  is  furnished  by  a  moderate  quantity 
of  nutritious  food.  This  extra  work  is  so  much 
sheer  loss — a  loss  which  in  children  shows  itself 


ECONOMISING  THE  LABOUR  OF  DIGESTION.   247 

either  in  diminished  energy,  or  in  smaller  growth, 
or  in  both.  The  inference  is,  then,  that  they  should 
have  a  diet  which  combines,  as  much  as  possible, 
nutritiveness  and  digestibility. 

It  is  doubtless  true  that  boys  and  girls  may  be 
brought  up  upon  an  exclusively,  oi'  almost  exclu- 
sively, vegetable  diet.  Among  the  upper  classes  are 
to  be  found  children  to  whom  comparatively  little 
meat  is  given;  and  who,  nevertheless,  grow  and  ap- 
pear in  good  health.  Animal  food  is  scarcely  tasted 
by  the  offspring  of  labouring  people;  and  yet  they 
reach  a  healthy  maturity.  But  these  seemingly  ad- 
verse facts  have  by  no  means  the  weight  commonly 
supposed.  In  the  first  place,  it  does  not  follow  that 
those  who  in  early  years  flourish  on  bread  and  po- 
tatoes, will  eventually  reach  a  fine  development; 
and  a  comparison  between  the  agricultural  labour- 
ers and  the  gentry,  in  England,  or  between  the  mid- 
dle and  lower  classes  in  France,  is  by  no  means  in 
favour  of  vegetable  feeders.  In  the  second  place, 
the  question  is  not  only  a  question  of  hulk,  but  also 
a  question  of  quality.  A  soft,  flabby  flesh  makes 
as  good  a  show  as  a  firm  one;  but  though  to  the 
careless  eye,  a  child  of  full,  flaccid  tissue  may  ap- 
pear the  equal  of  one  whose  fibres  are  well  toned,  a 
trial  of  strength  will  prove  the  difference.  Obesity 
in  adults  is  often  a  sign  of  feebleness.     Men  lose 


248  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

weight  in  training.  And  hence  the  appearance  of 
these  low-fed  children  is  by  no  means  conclusive. 
In  the  third  place,  not  only  size,  but  energy  has  to 
be  considered.  Between  children  of  the  meat-eat- 
ing classes  and  those  of  the  bread-and-potato-eating 
classes,  there  is  a  marked  contrast  in  this  respect. 
Both  in  mental  and  physical  vivacity  the  low-fed 
peasant-boy  is  greatly  inferior  to  the  better-fed  son 
of  a  gentleman. 

If  we  compare  different  classes  of  animals,  or 
different  races  of  men,  or  the  same  animals  or  men 
when  differently  fed,  we  find  still  more  distinct 
proof  that  the  degree  of  e^iergy  essentially  depends 
on  the  nutritiveness  of  the  food. 

In  a  cow,  subsisting  on  so  innutritive  a  food  as 
grass,  we  see  that  the  immense  quantity  required 
to  be  eaten  necessitates  an  enormous  digestive  sys- 
tem; that  the  limbs,  small  in  comparison  with  the 
body,  are  burdened  by  its  weight ;  that  in  carrying 
about  this  heavy  body  and  digesting  this  excessive 
quantity  of  food,  a  great  amount  of  force  is  ex- 
pended; and  that,  having  but  little  energy  remain- 
ing, the  creature  is  sluggish.  Compare  with  the 
cow  a  horse — an  animal  of  nearly  allied  structure, 
but  adapted  to  a  more  concentrated  food.  Here 
we  see  that  the  body,  and  more  especially  its  ab- 
dominal region,  bears  a  much  smaller  ratio  to  the 


EFFECTS  OF  CONCENTRATED  FOOD,        Q49 

limbs;  that  the  powers  are  not  taxed  by  the  support 
of  such  massive  viscera,  nor  the  digestion  of  so 
bulky  a  food;  and  that,  as  a  consequence,  there 
is  great  locomotive  energy  and  considerable  vivaci- 
ty. If,  again,  we  contrast  the  stolid  inactivity  of 
the  graminivorous  sheep  with  the  liveliness  of  the 
dog,  subsisting  upon  llesh  or  farinaceous  food,  or  a 
mixture  of  the  two,  we  see  a  difference  similar  in 
kind,  but  still  greater  in  degree.  And  after  walk- 
ing through  the  Zoological  Gardens,  and  noting  the 
restlessness  with  which  the  carnivorous  animals 
pace  up  and  down  their  cages,  it  needs  but  to  re- 
member that  none  of  the  herbivorous  animals 
habitually  display  this  superfluous  energy,  to  see 
how  clear  is  the  relation  between  concentration  of 
food  and  degree  of  activity. 

That  these  differences  are  not  directly  conse- 
quent upon  differences  of  constitution,  as  some  may 
argue;  but  are  directly  consequent  upon  differences 
in  the  food  which  the  creatures  are  constituted  to 
subsist  on;  is  proved  by  the  fact,  that  they  are 
observable  between  different  divisions  of  the  same 
species.  Take  the  case  of  mankind.  The  Austra- 
lians, Bushmen,  and  others  of  the  low^est  savages 
who  live  on  roots  and  berries,  varied  by  larvae  of 
insects  and  the  like  meagre  fare,  are  comparatively 
puny  in  stature,  have  large  abdomens,  soft  and  un- 


250  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

developed  muscles,  and  are  quite  unable  to  cope 
with  Europeans,  either  in  a  struggle  or  in  a  pro- 
longed exertion.  Count  up  the  wild  races  who 
are  well  grown,  strong  and  active,  as  the  Kaffirs, 
]^orth- American  Indians,  and  Patagonians,  and 
you  find  them  large  consumers  of  flesh.  The 
ill-fed  Hindoo  goes  down  before  the  Englishman  fed 
on  more  nutritive  food ;  to  whom  he  is  as  inferior  in 
mental  as  in  physical  energy.  And  generally,  we 
think,  the  history  of  the  world  shows  that  the  well- 
fed  races  have  been  the  energetic  and  dominant 
races. 

Still  stronger,  however,  becomes  the  argument, 
when  we  find  that  the  same  individual  animal  be- 
comes capable  of  more  or  less  exertion  according 
as  its  food  is  more  or  less  nutritious.  This  has  been 
clearly  demonstrated  in  the  case  of  the  horse. 
Though  flesh  may  be  gained  by  a  grazing  horse, 
strength  is  lost;  as  putting  him  to  hard  work  proves. 
"  The  consequence  of  turning  horses  out  to  grass 
is  relaxation  of  the  muscular  system."  "  Grass  is 
a  very  good  preparation  for  a  bullock  for  Smith- 
field  market,  but  a  very  bad  one  for  a  hunter."  It 
was  well  known  of  old  that,  after  passing  the  sum- 
mer months  in  the  field,  hunters  required  some 
months  of  stable-feeding  before  becoming  able  to 
follow  the  hounds;  and  that  they  did  not  get  into 


DIET  INFLUENCES  ENERGY.  251 

good  condition  until  the  beginning  of  the  next 
spring. .  And  the  modern  practice  is  that  insisted 
on  by  Mr.  Apperlej — "  Xever  to  give  a  hunter 
what  is  called  a  '  summer's  run  at  grass/  and,  ex- 
cept under  particular  and  verv  favourable  circum- 
stances, never  to  turn  him  out  at  all."  That  is  to 
say,  never  give  him  poor  food;  great  energy  and 
endurance  are  to  be  obtained  only  by  the  continu- 
ous use  of  very  nutritive  food.  So  true  is  this  that, 
as  proved  by  Mr.  Apperley,  prolonged  high-feed- 
ing will  enable  a  middling  horse  to  equal,  in  his 
performances,  a  first-rate  horse  fed  in  the  ordinary 
way.  To  which  various  evidences  add  the  familiar 
fact  that,  when  a  horse  is  required  to  do  double 
duty,  it  is  the  practice  to  give  him  beans — a  food 
containing  a  larger  proportion  of  nitrogenous,  or 
flesh-making  material,  than  his  habitual  oats. 

Once  more,  in  the  case  of  individual  men  the 
truth  has  been  illustrated  with  equal,  or  still  great- 
er, clearness.  We  do  not  refer  to  men  in  training 
for  feats  of  strength,  whose  regimen,  however, 
thoroughly  conforms  to  the  doctrine.  We  refer 
to  the  experience  of  railway  contractors  and  their 
labourers.  It  has  been  for  years  past  a  well-estab- 
lished fact  that  the  English  navvy,  eating  largely 
of  flesh,  is  far  more  efficient  than  a  Continental 
navvy  living  on  a  less  nutritive  food :  so  much  more 


252  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

efficient,  that  Englisli  contractors  for  Continental 
railways  Have  habitually  taken  their  labourers  with 
them.  That  difference  of  diet  and  not  difference  of 
race  caused  this  superiority,  has  been  of  late  dis- 
tinctly shown.  For  it  has  turned  out,  that  when 
the  Continental  navvies  live  in  the  same  style  as 
their  English  competitors,  they  presently  rise,  more 
or  less  nearly,  to  a  par  with  them  in  efficiency.  To 
which  fact  let  us  here  add  the  converse  one,  to  which 
we  can  give  personal  testimony  based  upon  six 
months'  experience  of  vegetarianism,  that  absti- 
nence from  meat  entails  diminished  energy  of  both 
body  and  mind. 

Do  not  these  various  evidences  distinctly  en- 
dorse our  argument  respecting  the  feeding  of  chil- 
dren? Do  they  not  imply  that,  even  supposing  the 
same  stature  and  bulk  to  be  attained  on  an  innutri- 
tive  as  on  a  nutritive  diet,  the  quality  of  tissue  is 
greatly  inferior.  Do  they  not  establish  the  posi- 
tion that,  where  energy  as  well  as  growth  has  to  be 
maintained,  it  can  only  be  done  by  high  feeding? 
Do  they  not  confirm  the  a  priori  conclusion  that, 
though  a  child  of  whom  little  is  expected  in  the 
way  of  bodily  or  mental  activity,  may  thrive  tolera- 
bly well  on  farinaceous  substances,  a  child  who  is 
daily  required,  not  only  to  form  the  due  amount  of 
new  tissue,  but  to  supply  the  waste  consequent  on 


CHILDREN'S  DIET  SHOULD  BE   VARIED.    253 

great  muscular  action,  and  the  further  waste  con- 
sequent on  hard  exercise  of  brain,  must  live  on  sub- 
stances containing  a  larger  ratio  of  nutritive  mat- 
ter ?  And  is  it  not  an  obvious  corollary,  that  denial 
of  this  better  food  will  be  at  the  expense  either  of 
growth,  or  of  bodily  activity,  or  of  mental  activity; 
as  constitution  and  circumstances  may  determine? 
We  believe  no  logical  intellect  will  question  it.  To 
think  otherwise  is  to  entertain  in  a  disguised  form 
the  old  fallacy  of  the  perpetual-motion  schemers — 
that  it  is  possible  to  get  power  out  of  nothing. 

Before  leaving  the  question  of  food,  a  few  words 
must  be  said  on  another  requisite — variety.  In 
this  respect  the  dietary  of  the  young  is  very  faulty. 
If  not,  like  our  soldiers,  condemned  to  "  twenty 
years  of  boiled  beef,"  our  children  have  mostly  to 
bear  a  monotony  which,  though  less  extreme  and 
less  lasting,  is  quite  as  clearly  at  variance  with  the 
laws  of  health.  At  dinner,  it  is  true,  they  usually 
have  food  that  is  more  or  less  mixed,  and  that  is 
changed  day  by  day.  But  week  after  week,  month 
after  month,  year  after  year,  comes  the  same  break- 
fast of  bread-and-milk,  or,  it  may  be,  oatmeal  por- 
ridge. And  with  like  persistence  the  day  is  closed, 
perhaps  with  a  second  edition  of  the  bread-aud-milk, 
perhaps  with  tea  and  bread-and-butter. 

This  practice  is  opposed  to  the  dictates  of  physi- 


254  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

ology.  The  satiety  produced  by  an  often-repeated 
dish,  and  the  gratification  caused  by  one  long  a 
stranger  to  the  palate,  are  not  meaningless,  as 
many  carelessly  assume;  but  they  are  the  incen- 
tives to  a  wholesome  diversity  of  diet.  It  is  a  fact, 
established  by  numerous  experiments,  that  there  is 
scarcely  any  one  food,  however  good,  which  sup- 
plies in  due  proportions  or  right  forms  all  the  ele- 
ments required  for  carrying  on  the  vital  processes 
in  a  normal  manner:  from  whence  it  is  to  be  in- 
ferred that  frequent  change  of  food  is  desirable  to 
balance  the  supply  of  all  the  elements.  It  is  a 
further  fact,  well  known  to  physiologists,  that  the 
enjoyment  given  by  a  much-liked  food  is  a  nervous 
stimulus,  which,  by  increasing  the  action  of  the 
heart  and  so  propelling  the  blood  with  increased 
vigour,  aids  in  the  subsequent  digestion.  And 
these  truths  are  in  harmony  with  the  maxims  of 
modern  cattle-feeding,  which  dictate  a  rotation  of 
diet. 

Not  only,  however,  is  periodic  change  of  food 
very  desirable;  but,  for  the  same  reasons,  it  is  very 
desirable  that  a  mixture  of  food  should  be  taken  at 
each  meal.  The  better  balance  of  ingredients,  and 
the  greater  nervous  stimulation,  are  advantages 
which  hold  here  as  before.  If  facts  are  asked  for, 
we  may  name  as  one,  the  comparative  ease  with 


CAUTION  IN  CHANGING  DIET.  255 

which  the  stomach  disposes  of  a  French  dinner, 
enormous  in  quantity  but  extremely  varied  in  ma- 
terial. Few  will  contend  that  an  equal  weight  of 
one  kind  of  food,  however  well  cooked,  could  be 
digested  with  as  much  facility.  If  any  desire 
further  facts,  they  may  find  them  in  every  modern 
book  on  the  management  of  animals.  Animals 
thrive  best  when  each  meal  is  made  up  of  several 
things.  And  indeed,  among  men  of  science  the 
truth  has  been  long  ago  established.  The  experi- 
ments of  Goss  and  Stark  "  afford  the  most  decisive 
proof  of  the  advantage,  or  rather  the  necessity,  of  a 
mixture  of  substances,  in  order  to  produce  the  com- 
pound which  is  the  best  adapted  for  the  action  of 
the  stomach,"  * 

Should  any  object,  as  probably  many  will,  that 
a  rotating  dietary  for  children,  and  one  which  also 
requires  a  mixture  of  food  at  each  meal,  would  en- 
tail too  much  trouble;  we  reply,  that  no  trouble  is 
thought  too  great  which  conduces  to  the  mental  de- 
velopment of  children,  and  that  for  their  future 
welfare,  good  bodily  development  is  equally  impor- 
tant. Moreover,  it  seems  alike  sad  and  strange  that 
a  trouble  which  is  cheerfully  taken  in  the  fattening 
of  pigs,  should  be  thought  too  great  in  the  rearing 
of  children. 

*  Cyclopcedia  of  Anatomy  and  Physiology. 


256  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

One  more  paragraph,  with  the  view  of  warning 
those  who  may  propose  to  adopt  the  regimen  indi- 
cated. The  change  must  not  be  made  suddenly; 
for  continued  low-feeding  so  enfeebles  the  system, 
as  to  disable  it  from  at  once  dealing  with  a  high  diet. 
Deficient  nutrition  is  itself  a  cause  of  dyspepsia. 
This  is  true  even  of  animals.  "  When  calves  are 
fed  with  skimmed  milk,  or  whey,  or  other  poor  food, 
they  are  liable  to  indigestion."  *  Hence,  there- 
fore, where  the  energies  are  low,  the  transition  to 
a  generous  diet  must  be  gradual:  each  increment 
of  strength  gained,  justifying  a  further  increase  of 
nutriment.  Further,  it  should  always  be  borne  in 
mind  that  the  concentration  of  nutriment  may  be 
carried  too  far.  A  bulk  sufficient  to  fill  the  stom- 
ach is  one  requisite  of  a  proper  meal;  and  this 
requisite  negatives  a  diet  deficient  in  those  waste 
matters  which  give  adequate  mass.  Though  the 
size  of  the  digestive  organs  is  less  in  the  well-fed 
civilized  races  than  in  the  ill-fed  savage  ones;  and, 
though  their  size  may  eventually  diminish  still  fur- 
ther ;  yet,  for  the  time  being,  the  bulk  of  the  ingesta 
must  be  determined  by  the  existing  capacity.  But, 
paying  due  regard  to  these  two  qualifications,  our 
conclusions  are — that  the  food  of  children  should 
be  highly  nutritive;  that  it  should  be  varied  at 
*  Morton's  Cydopcedia  of  Agriculture. 


OBEDIENCE  TO  THE  PHYSICAL  CONSCIENCE.  257 

each  meal  and   at   successive   meals;  and   that   it 
should  be  abundant. 

With  clothing  as  with  food,  the  established  ten- 
dency is  towards  an  improper  scantiness.  Here, 
too,  asceticism  peeps  out.  There  is  a  current 
theory,  vaguely  entertained,  if  not  put  into  a  defi- 
nite formula,  that  the  sensations  are  to  be  disre- 
garded. They  do  not  exist  for  our  guidance,  but 
to  mislead  us,  seems  to  be  the  prevalent  belief  re- 
duced to  its  naked  form.  It  is  a  grave  error:  we 
are  much  more  beneficently  constituted.  It  is  not 
obedience  to  the  sensations,  but  disobedience  to 
them,  which  is  the  habitual  cause  of  bodily  evils. 
It  is  not  the  eating  when  hungry,  but  the  eating  in 
the  absence  of  appetite,  which  is  bad.  It  is  not 
the  drinking  when  thirsty,  but  the  continuing  to 
drink  when  thirst  has  ceased,  that  is  the  vice. 
Harm  results  not  from  breathing  that  fresh  air 
which  every  healthy  person  enjoys;  but  from  con- 
tinuing to  breathe  foul  air,  spite  of  the  protest  of 
the  lungs.  Harm  results  not  from  taking  that 
active  exercise  which,  as  every  child  shows  us,  na- 
ture strongly  prompts;  but  from  a  persistent  disre- 
gard of  nature's  promptings.  Xot  that  mental  ac- 
tivity which  is  spontaneous  and  enjoyable  does  the 
mischief;  but  that  which  is  persevered  in  after  a 


258  PnYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

hot  or  aching  head  commands  desistanco.  !Not 
that  bodily  exertion  which  is  pleasant  or  indifferent, 
does  injury;  but  that  which  is  continued  when  ex- 
haustion forbids.  It  is  true  that,  in  those  who  have 
long  led  unhealthy  lives,  the  sensations  are  not  trust- 
worthy guides.  People  who  have  for  years  been  al- 
most constantly  in-doors,  who  have  exercised  their 
brains  very  much,  and  their  bodies  scarcely  at  all, 
who  in  eating  have  obeyed  their  clocks  without  con- 
sulting their  stomachs,  may  very  likely  be  misled 
by  their  vitiated  feelings.  But  their  abnormal 
state  is  itself  the  result  of  transgressing  their  feel- 
ings. Had  they  from  childhood  up  never  dis- 
obeyed what  we  may  term  the  physical  conscience, 
it  would  not  have  been  seared,  but  would  have  re- 
mained a  faithful  monitor. 

Among  the  sensations  serving  for  our  guidance 
are  those  of  heat  and  cold;  and  a  clothing  for  chil- 
dren which  does  not  carefully  consult  these  sensa- 
tions is  to  be  condemned.  The  common  notion 
about  "  hardening  "  is  a  grievous  delusion.  Chil- 
dren are  not  unfrequently  "  hardened  "  out  of  the 
World;  and  those  who  survive,  permanently  suffer 
either  in  growth  or  constitution.  "  Their  delicate 
appearance  furnishes  ample  indication  of  the  mis- 
chief thus  produced,  and  their  frequent  attacks  of 
illness  might  prove  a  warning  even  to  unreflecting 


PROTECTION   PROM  COLD.  259 

parents,"  says  Dr.  Combe.  The  reasoning  on 
which  this  hardening  theory  rests  is  extremely  su- 
perficiaL  AYealthy  parents,  seeing  little  peasant 
boys  and  girls  playing  about  in  the  open  air  only 
half-clothed,  and  joining  with  this  fact  the  general 
healthiness  of  labouring  people,  draw  the  unwar- 
rantable conclusion  that  the  healthiness  is  the  result 
of  the  exposure,  and  resolve  to  keep  their  own  off- 
spring scantily  covered!  It  is  forgotten  that  these 
urchins  who  gambol  upon  village-greens  are  in  many 
respects  favourably  circumstanced — that  their  days 
are  spent  in  almost  perpetual  play;  that  they 
are  always  breathing  fresh  air;  and  that  their  sys- 
tems are  not  disturbed  by  over-taxed  brains.  For 
aught  that  appears  to  the  contrary,  their  good 
health  may  be  maintained,  not  in  consequence  of, 
but  in  spite  of,  their  deficient  clothing.  This  alter- 
native conclusion  we  believe  to  be  the  true  one; 
and  that  an  inevitable  detriment  results  from  the 
needless  loss  of  animal  heat  to  which  they  are 
subject. 

For  when,  the  constitution  being  sound  enough 
to  bear  it,  exposure  does  produce  hardness,  it  does  so 
at  the  expense  of  growth.  This  truth  is  displayed 
alike  in  animals  and  in  man.  The  Shetland 
pony  bears  greater  inclemencies  than  the  horses  of 
the  south,  but  is  dwarfed.     Highland  sheep  and 


260  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

cattle,  living  in  a  colder  climate,  are  stunted  in 
comparison  with  English  breeds.  In  both  the  arc- 
tic and  antarctic  regions  the  human  race  falls  much 
below  its  ordinary  height:  the  Laplander  and  Es- 
quimaux are  very  short;  and  the  Terra  del  Fue- 
gians,  who  go  naked  in  a  cold  latitude,  are  de- 
scribed by  Darwin  as  so  stunted  and  hideous,  that 
"  one  can  hardly  make  one's  self  believe  they  are 
fellow-creatures." 

Science  clearly  explains  this  dwarfishness  pro- 
duced by  great  abstraction  of  heat:  showing  that, 
food  and  other  things  being  equal,  it  unavoidably 
results.  For,  as  before  pointed  out,  to  make  up 
for  that  cooling  by  radiation  which  the  body  is  con- 
stantly undergoing,  there  must  be  a  constant  oxida- 
tion of  certain  matters  which  form  part  of  the  food. 
And  in  proportion  as  the  thermal  loss  is  great,  must 
the  quantity  of  these  matters  required  for  oxidation 
be  great.  But  the  power  of  the  digestive  organs  is 
limited.  Hence  it  follows,  that  when  they  have  to 
prepare  a  large  quantity  of  this  material  needful  for 
maintaining  the  temperature,  they  can  prepare 
but  a  small  quantity  of  the  material  which  goes  to 
build  up  the  frame.  Excessive  expenditure  for 
fuel  entails  diminished  means  for  other  purposes: 
wherefore  there  necessarily  results  a  body  small  in 
size,  or  inferior  in  texture,  or  both. 


PROTECTION  FROM  COLD.  261 

Hence  the  great  importance  of  clothing.  As 
Liebig  sajs: — "  Our  clothing  is,  in  reference  to  the 
temperature  of  the  body,  merely  an  equivalent  for 
a  certain  amount  of  food."  By  diminishing  the 
loss  of  heat,  it  diminishes  the  amount  of  fuel 
needful  for  maintaining  the  heat;  and  when  the 
stomach  has  less  to  do  in  preparing  fuel,  it  can  do 
more  in  preparing  other  materials.  This  deduction 
is  entirely  confirmed  by  the  experience  of  those  who 
manage  animals.  Cold  can  be  borne  by  animals 
only  at  an  expense  of  fat,  or  muscle,  or  growth,  as 
the  case  may  be.  "  If  fattening  cattle  are  exposed 
to  a  low  temperature,  either  their  progress  must  be 
retarded,  or  a  great  additional  expenditure  of  food 
incurred."  *  Mr.  Apperley  insists  strongly  that, 
to  bring  hunters  into  good  condition,  it  is  necessary 
that  the  stable  should  be  kept  warm.  And  among 
those  who  rear  racers,  it  is  an  established  doctrine 
that  exposure  is  to  be  avoided. 

The  scientific  truth  thus  illustrated  by  ethnolo- 
gy, and  recognised  by  agriculturists  and  sportsmen, 
applies  with  double  force  to  children.  In  propor- 
tion to  their  smallness  and  the  rapidity  of  their 
growth  is  the  injury  from  cold  great.  In  France, 
new-born  infants  often  die  in  winter  from  being 
carried  to  the  ofiice  of  the  maire  for  registration. 
*  Morton's  Cyclopcedia  of  Agriculture.] 


262  PHYSICAL   EDUCATION. 

"  M.  Quetelet  has  pointed  out,  that  in  Belgium  two 
infants  die  in  January  for  one  that  dies  in  July." 
And  in  Russia  the  infant  mortality  is  something- 
enormous.  Even  when  near  maturity,  the  unde- 
veloped frame  is  comparatively  unable  to  bear  ex- 
posure: as  witness  the  quickness  with  which  young 
soldiers  succumb  in  a  trying  camj)aign.  The 
rationale  is  obvious.  We  have  already  adverted 
to  the  fact  that,  in  consequence  of  the  varying  re- 
lation between  surface  and  bulk,  a  child  loses  a  rela- 
tively larger  amount  of  heat  than  an  adult;  and 
here  we  must  point  out  that  the  disadvantage  under 
which  the  child  thus  labours  is  very  great.  Leh- 
mann  says: — "  If  the  carbonic  acid  excreted  by 
children  or  young  animals  is  calculated  for  an 
equal  bodily  weight,  it  results  that  children  produce 
nearly  twice  as  much  acid  as  adults."  ]^ow  the 
quantity  of  carbonic  acid  given  off  varies  with 
tolerable  accuracy  as  the  quantity  of  heat  produced. 
And  thus  we  see  that  in  children  the  system, 
even  when  not  placed  at  a  disadvantage,  is  called 
upon  to  provide  nearly  double  the  proportion  of 
material  for  generating  heat. 

See,  then,  the  extreme  folly  of  clothing  the 
young  scantily.  What  father,  full-grown  though 
he  is,  losing  heat  less  rapidly  as  he  does,  and  having 
no  physiological  necessity  but  to  supply  the  waste 


EVILS  INFLICTED  BY  SCANTY  CLOTHING.    263 

of  each  day — what  father,  we  ask,  would  think  it 
salutary  to  go  about  with  bare  legs,  bare  arms,  and 
bare  neck?  Yet  this  tax  upon  the  system,  from 
which  he  would  shrink,  he  inflicts  upon  his  little 
ones,  who  are  so  much  less  able  to  bear  it!  or,  if 
he  does  not  inflict  it,  sees  it  inflicted  without  protest. 
Let  him  remember  that  every  ounce  of  nutriment 
needlessly  expended  for  the  maintenance  of  tem- 
perature, is  so  much  deducted  from  the  nutriment 
going  to  build  up  the  frame  and  maintain  the  ener- 
gies; and  that  even  when  colds,  congestions,  or 
other  consequent  disorders  are  escaped,  diminished 
growth  or  less  perfect  structure  is  inevitable. 

The  rule  is,  therefore,  not  to  dress  in  an  inva- 
riable way  in  all  cases,  but  to  put  on  clothing  in 
kind  and  quantity  sufficient  in  the  individual  case 
to  protect  the  body  effectually  frotn  an  abiding 
sensation  of  cold,  however  slight."  This  rule,  the 
importance  of  which  Dr.  Combe  indicates  by  the 
italics,  is  one  in  which  men  of  science  and  practi- 
tioners agree.  We  have  met  with  none  competent 
to  form  a  judgment  on  the  matter,  who  do  not 
strongly  condemn  the  exposure  of  children's  limbs. 
If  there  is  one  point  above  others  in  which  "  pesti- 
lent custom  "  should  be  ignored,  it  is  this. 

Lamentable,  indeed,  is  it  to  see  mothers  serious- 
ly damaging  the  constitutions  of  their  children  out 


261  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

of  compliance  with  an  irrational  fashion.  It  is  bad 
enough  that  they  should  themselves  conform  to 
every  folly  which  our  Gallic  neighbours  please  to 
initiate;  but  tliat  they  should  clothe  their  children 
in  any  mountebank  dress  which  Le  petit  Courrier 
des  Dames  indicates,  regardless  of  its  insufficiency 
and  unfitness,  is  monstrous.  Discomfort,  more  or 
less  great,  is  inflicted;  frequent  disorders  are  en- 
tailed; growth  is  checked  or  stamina  undermined; 
premature  death  not  uncommonly  caused;  and  all 
because  it  is  thought  needful  to  make  frocks  of  a 
size  and  material  dictated  by  French  caprice.  Not 
only  is  it  that  for  the  sake  of  conformity,  mothers 
thus  punish  and  injure  their  little  ones  by  scanti- 
ness of  covering;  but  it  is  that  from  an  allied  mo- 
tive they  impose  a  style  of  dress  which  forbids 
healthful  activity.  To  please  the  eye,  colours  and 
fabrics  are  chosen  totally  unfit  to  bear  that  rough 
usage  which  unrestrained  play  involves;  and  then 
to  prevent  damage  the  unrestrained  play  is  inter- 
dicted. "  Get  up  this  moment:  you  will  soil  your 
clean  frock,"  is  the  mandate  issued  to  some  urchin 
creeping  about  on  the  floor.  "  Come  back:  you 
will  dirty  your  stockings,"  calls  out  the  governess 
to  one  of  her  charges,  who  has  left  the  footpath  to 
scramble  up  a  bank.  Thus  is  the  evil  doubled. 
That  they  may  come  up  to  their  mamma's  standard 


MATERNAL  FOLLY  IN  DRESSING  CHILDREN.  265 

of  prettiness,  and  be  admired  by  her  visitors,  chil- 
dren must  have  habiliments  deficient  in  quantity 
and  unfit  in  texture;  and  that  these  easily-dam- 
aged habiliments  may  be  kept  clean  and  uninjured, 
the  restless  activity,  so  natural  and  needful  for  the 
young,  is  more  or  less  restrained.  The  exercise 
which  becomes  doubly  requisite  when  the  clothing 
is  insufficient,  is  cut  short,  lest  it  should  deface  the 
clothing.  Would  that  the  terrible  cruelty  of  this 
system  could  be  seen  by  those  who  maintain  it. 
We  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that,  through  enfeebled 
health,  defective  energies,  and  consequent  non- 
success  in  life,  thousands  are  annually  doomed  to 
unhappiness  by  this  unscrupulous  regard  for  ap- 
pearances even  when  they  are  not,  by  early  death, 
literally  sacrificed  to  the  Moloch  of  maternal  van- 
ity. We  are  reluctant  to  counsel  strong  measures, 
but  really  the  evils  are  so  great  as  to  justify,  or 
even  to  demand,  a  peremptory  interference  on  the 
part  of  fathers. 

Our  conclusions  are,  then — that,  while  the 
clothing  of  children  should  never  be  in  such  excess 
as  to  create  oppressive  warmth,  it  should  always  be 
suflacient  to  prevent  any  general  feeling  of  cold;  * 

*  It  is  needful  to  remark  that  children  whose  legs  and  arms 
have  been  from  the  beginning  habitually  without  covering, 
cease  to  be  conscious  that  the  exposed  surfaces  are  cold  ;  just 
35 


266  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

that,  instead  of  the  flimsy  cotton,  linen,  or  mixed 
fabrics  commonly  nsed,  it  should  be  made  of  some 
good  non-conductor,  such  as  coarse  woollen  cloth; 
that  it  should  be  so  strong  as  to  receive  little  damage 
from  the  hard  wear  and  tear  which  childish  sports 
will  give  it;  and  that  its  colours  should  be  such  as 
will  not  soon  suffer  from  use  qjid  exposure. 

To  the  importance  of  bodily  exercise  most  peo- 
ple are  in  some  degree  awake.  Perhaps  less  needs 
saying  on  this  requisite  of  physical  education  than 
on  most  others:  at  any  rate,  in  so  far  as  boys  are 
concerned.  Public  schools  and  private  schools 
alike  furnish  tolerably  adequate  playgrounds;  and 
there  is  usually  a  fair  share  of  time  for  out-of-door 
games,  and  a  recognition  of  them  as  needful.  In 
this,  if  in  no  other  direction,  it  seems  admitted  that 
the  natural  promptings  of  boyish  instinct  may  ad- 
vantageously be  followed;  and,  indeed,  in  the 
modern  practice  of  breaking  the  prolonged  morning 
and  afternoon's  lessons  by  a  few  minutes'  open-air 
recreation,  we  see  an  increasing  tendency  to  con- 
as  by  use  we  have  all  ceased  to  be  conscious  that  our  faces  are 
cold,  even  when  out  of  doors.  But  though  in  such  children 
the  sensations  no  longer  protest,  it  does  not  follow  that  the 
system  escapes  injury ;  any  more  than  it  follows  that  the  Fue- 
gian  is  undamaged  by  exposure,  because  he  bears  with  indif- 
ference the  melting  of  the  falling  snow  on  his  naked  body. 


GIRLS  HAVE  NOT  ENOUGH  EXERCISE.     267 

form  school  regulations  to  the  bodily  sensations  of 
the  pupils.  Here,  then,  little  needs  to  be  said  in 
the  way  of  expostulation  or  suggestion. 

But  we  have  been  obliged  to  qualify  this  ad- 
mission by  inserting  the  clause  "  in  so  far  as  boys 
are  concerned."     Unfortunately,  the  fact  is  quite 
otherwise  in  the  case  of  girls.     It  chances,  some- 
what strangely,  that  we  have  daily  opportunity  of 
drawing  a  comparison.     We  have  both  a  boy's  and 
a  girl's  school  within  view;  and  the  contrast  be- 
tween them  is  remarkable.     In  the  one  case,  nearly 
the  whole  of  a  large  garden  is  turned  into  an  open, 
gravelled  space,  affording  ample  scope  for  games, 
and  supplied  with  poles  and  horizontal   bars   for 
gymnastic  exercises.     Every  day  before  breakfast, 
again  towards  eleven  o'clock,   again   at   mid-day, 
agam  in  the  afternoon,  and  once  more  after  school 
is  over,  the  neighbourhood  is  awakened  by  a  chorus 
of  shouts  and  laughter  as  the  boys  rush  out  to  play; 
and  for  as  long  as  they  remain,  both  eyes  and  ears 
give  proof  that  they  are  absorbed  in  that  enjoyable 
activity  which  makes  the  pulse  bound  and  ensures 
the  healthful  activity  of  every  organ.     How  unlike 
is  the  picture  offered  by  the  "  Establishment  for 
Young  Ladies  "!     Until  the  fact  was  pointed  out, 
we  actually  did  not  know  that  we  had  a  girl's  school 
as  close  to  us  as  the  school  for  boys.     The  garden, 


268  PHYSICAL   EDUCATION. 

equally  large  with  the  other,  alfords  no  sign  what- 
ever of  any  provision  for  juvenile  recreation;  but  is 
entirely  laid  out  with  prim  grassplots,  gravel-walks, 
shrubs  and  flowers,  after  the  usual  suburban  style. 
During  five  months  we  have  not  once  had  our  atten- 
tion drawn  to  the  premises  by  a  shout  or  a  laugh. 
Occasionally  girls  may  be  observed  sauntering 
along  the  paths  with  their  lesson-books  in  their 
hands,  or  else  walking  arm-in-arm.  Once,  in- 
deed, we  saw  one  chase  another  round  the  garden; 
but,  with  this  exception,  nothing  like  vigorous  ex- 
ertion has  been  visible. 

Why  this  astonishing  difference?  Is  it  that  the 
constitution  of  a  girl  diifers  so  entirely  from  that 
of  a  boy  as  not  to  need  these  active  exercises?  Is 
it  that  a  girl  has  none  of  the  promptings  to  vocifer- 
ous play  by  which  boys  are  impelled?  Or  is  it 
that,  while  in  boys  these  promptings  are  to  be  re- 
garded as  securing  that  bodily  activity  without 
which  there  cannot  be  adequate  development,  to 
their  sisters  nature  has  given  them  for  no  purpose 
whatever — unless  it  be  for  the  vexation  of  school- 
mistresses? Perhaps,  however,  we  mistake  the  aim 
of  those  who  train  the  gentler  sex.  We  have  a 
vague  suspicion  that  to  produce  a  robust  physique 
is  thought  undesirable;  that  rude  health  and  abun- 
dant   vigour    are    considered    somewhat    plebeian; 


THE  HORROR  OP   THE  SCHOOL-MISTRESS.     269 

that  a  certain  delicacy,  a  strength  not  competent  to 
more  than  a  mile  or  two's  walk,  an  appetite  fasti- 
dious and  easily  satisfied,  joined  with  that  timidity 
which  commonly  accompanies  feebleness,  are  held 
more  lady-like.  We  do  not  expect  that  any  would 
distinctly  avow  this;  but  we  fancy  the  governess- 
mind  is  haunted  by  an  ideal  young  lady  bearing 
not  a  little  resemblance  to  this  type.  If  so,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  the  established  system  is  admira- 
bly calculated  to  realize  this  ideal.  But  to  sup- 
pose that  such  is  the  ideal  of  the  opposite  sex  is  a 
profound  mistake.  That  men  are  not  commonly 
drawn  towards  masculine  women,  is  doubtless  true. 
That  such  relative  weakness  as  calls  for  the  protec- 
tion of  superior  strength  is  an  element  of  attraction, 
we  quite  admit.  But  the  difference  to  which  the 
feelings  thus  respond  is  the  natural,  pre-established 
difference,  which  will  assert  itself  without  artificial 
appliances.  And  when,  by  artificial  appliances, 
the  degree  of  this  difference  is  increased,  it  becomes 
an  element  of  repulsion  rather  than  attraction. 

"  Then  girls  should  be  allowed  to  run  wild — to 
become  as  rude  as  boys,  and  grow  up  into  romps 
and  hoydens!  "  exclaims  some  defender  of  the  pro- 
prieties. This,  we  presume,  is  the  ever-present 
dread  of  schoolmistresses.  It  appears,  on  inquiry, 
that  at  "  Establishments  for  Young  Ladies  "  noisy 


270  PHYSICAL   EDUCATION. 

play  like  that  daily  indulged  in  by  boys,  is  a  punish- 
able offence;  and  it  is  to  be  inferred  that  this  noisy 
play  is  forbidden,  lest  unlady-like  habits  should  be 
formed.  The  fear  is  quite  groundless,  however. 
For  if  the  sportive  activity  allowed  to  boys  does 
not  prevent  them  from  growing  up  into  gentlemen; 
why  should  a  like  sportive  activity  allowed  to  girls 
prevent  them  from  growing  up  into  ladies?  Rough 
as  may  have  been  their  accustomed  play-ground 
frolics,  youths  who  have  left  school  do  not  indulge 
in  leapfrog  in  the  street,  or  marbles  in  the  drawing- 
room.  Abandoning  their  jackets,  they  abandon 
at  the  same  time  boyish  games;  and  display  an 
anxiety — often  a  ludicrous  anxiety — to  avoid  what- 
ever is  not  manly.  If  now,  on  arriving  at  the  due 
age,  this  feeling  of  masculine  dignity  puts  so  effi- 
cient a  restraint  on  the  romping  sports  of  boyhood, 
will  not  the  feeling  of  feminine  modesty,  gradually 
strengthening  as  maturity  is  approached,  put  an 
efficient  restraint  on  the  like  sports  of  girlhood? 
Have  not  women  even  a  greater  regard  for  appear- 
ances than  men?  and  will  there  not  consequently 
arise  in  them  even  a  stronger  check  to  wdiatever  is 
rough  or  boisterous?  How  absurd  is  the  supposi- 
tion that  the  womanly  instincts  would  not  assert 
themselves  but  for  the  rigorous  discipline  of  school- 
mistresses ! 


PLAY  BETTER  THAN  GYMNASTICS.         271 

In  this,  as  in  other  cases,  to  remedy  the  evils  of 
one  artificiality,  another  artificiality  has  been  in- 
troduced. The  natural  spontaneous  exercise  hav- 
ing been  forbidden,  and  the  bad  consequences  of 
no  exercise  having  become  conspicuous,  there  has 
been  adopted  a  system  of  factitious  exercise — 
gymnastics.  That  this  is  better  than  nothing 
we  admit;  but  that  it  is  an  adequate  substitute 
for  play  we  deny.  The  defects  are  both  positive 
and  negative.  In  the  first  place,  these  formal, 
muscular  motions,  necessarily  much  less  varied 
than  those  accompanying  juvenile  sports,  do  not 
secure  so  equable  a  distribution  of  action  to  all 
parts  of  the  body;  whence  it  results  that  the  exer- 
tion, falling  on  special  parts,  produces  fatigue  soon- 
er than  it  would  else  have  done:  add  to  which,  that, 
if  constantly  repeated,  this  exertion  of  special  parts 
leads  to  a  disproportionate  development.  Again, 
the  quantity  of  exercise  thus  taken  will  be  deficient, 
not  only  in  consequence  of  uneven  distribution,  but 
it  will  be  further  deficient  in  consequence  of  lack 
of  interest.  Even  when  not  made  repulsive,  as 
they  sometimes  are,  by  assuming  the  shape  of  ap- 
pointed lessons,  these  monotonous  movements  are 
sure  to  become  wearisome,  from  the  absence  of 
amusement.  Competition,  it  is  true,  serves  as  a 
stimulus;  but  it  is  not  a  lasting  stimulus,  like  that 


272  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

enjoyment  which  accompanies  varied  play.  Not 
only,  however,  are  gymnastics  inferior  in  respect  of 
the  quantity  of  muscuhir  exertion  whicli  they  se- 
cure; they  are  still  more  inferior  in  respect  of 
the  quality.  This  comparative  want  of  enjoyment 
to  which  we  have  just  referred  as  a  cause  of  early 
desistance  from  artificial  exercises,  is  also  a  cause 
of  inferiority  in  the  effects  they  produce  on  the 
system.  The  common  assumption  that  so  long  as 
the  amount  of  bodily  action  is  the  same,  it  matters 
not  whether  it  be  pleasurable  or  otherwise,  is  a 
grave  mistake.  An  agreeable  mental  excitement 
has  a  highly  invigorating  influence.  See  the  ef- 
fect produced  upon  an  invalid  by  good  news,  or  by 
the  visit  of  an  old  friend.  Mark  how  careful  med- 
ical men  are  to  recommend  lively  society  to  debili- 
tated patients.  Remember  how  beneficial  to  the 
health  is  the  gratification  produced  by  change  of 
scene.  The  truth  is  that  happiness  is  the  most  pow- 
erful of  tonics.  By  accelerating  the  circulation  of 
the  blood,  it  facilitates  the  performance  of  every 
function;  and  so  tends  alike  to  increase  health 
when  it  exists,  and  to  restore  it  when  it  has  been 
lost.  Hence  the  essential  superiority  of  play  to 
gymnastics.  The  extreme  interest  felt  by  children 
in  their  games,  and  the  riotous  glee  with  which 
they  carry  on  their  rougher  frolics,  are  of  as  much 


PHYSICAL  DEGENERACY.  273 

importance  as  the  accompanying  exertion.  And  as 
not  supplying  these  mental  stimuli,  gymnastics 
nmst  be  fundamentally  defective. 

Granting  then,  as  we  do,  that  formal  exercises 
of  the  limbs  are  better  than  nothing — granting, 
further,  that  they  may  be  used  with  advantage  as 
supplementary  aids;  we  yet  contend  that  such 
formal  exercises  can  never  supply  the  place  of 
the  exercises  prompted  by  nature.  For  girls,  as 
well  as  boys,  the  sportive  activities  to  which  the 
instincts  impel,  are  essential  to  bodily  welfare. 
Whoever  forbids  them,  forbids  the  divinely-ap- 
pointed means  to  physical  development. 

A  topic  still  remains — one  perhaps  more  ur- 
gently demanding  consideration  than  any  of  the 
foregoing.  It  is  asserted  by  not  a  few,  that  among 
the  educated  classes  the  younger  adults  and  those 
who  are  verging  upon  maturity  are,  on  the  aver- 
age, neither  so  well  grown  nor  so  strong  as  their 
seniors.  When  first  we  heard  this  assertion,  we 
were  inclined  to  disregard  it  as  one  of  the  many 
manifestations  of  the  old  tendency  to  exalt  the  past 
at  the  expense  of  the  present.  Calling  to  mind  the 
facts  that,  as  measured  by  ancient  armour,  modern 
men  are  proved  to  be  larger  than  ancient  men,  and 
that  the  tables  of  mortality  show  no  diminution, 


274:  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

but  rather  an  increase  in  the  duration  of  life,  we 
paid  little  attention  to  what  seemed  a  groundless 
belief.  Detailed  observation,  however,  has  greatly 
shaken  our  opinion.  Omitting  from  the  compari- 
son the  labouring  classes,  we  have  noticed  a  major- 
ity of  cases  in  which  the  children  do  not  reach  the 
stature  of  their  parents;  and,  in  massiveness,  mak- 
ing due  allowance  for  difference  of  age,  there 
seems  a  like  inferiority.  In  health,  the  contrast 
appears  still  greater.  Men  of  past  generations,  liv- 
ing riotously  as  they  did,  could  bear  much  more 
than  men  of  the  present  generation,  who  live  sober- 
ly, can  bear.  Though  they  drank  hard,  kept  ir- 
regular hours,  were  regardless  of  fresh  air,  and 
thought  little  of  cleanliness,  our  recent  ancestors 
were  capable  of  prolonged  application  without  in- 
jury, even  to  a  ripe  old  age:  witness  the  annals  of 
the  bench  and  the  bar.  Yet  we  who  think  much 
about  our  bodily  welfare ;  who  eat  with  moderation, 
and  do  not  drink  to  excess;  who  attend  to  ventila- 
tion, and  use  frequent  ablutions;  who  make  annual 
excursions,  and  have  the  benefit  of  greater  medical 
knowledge; — we  are  continually  breaking  down 
under  our  work.  Paying  considerable  attention  to 
tli^e  laws  of  health,  we  seem  to  be  weaker  than  our 
grandfathers  who,  in  many  respects,  defied  the  laws 
of  health.     And,  judging  from  the  appearance  and 


MISCHIEFS  OF  OVER-APPLICATION.         275 

frequent  ailments  of  the  rising  generation,  they  are 
likely  to  be  even  less  robust  than  ourselves. 

What  is  the  meaning  of  this?  Is  it  that  past 
over-feeding,  alike  of  adults  and  juveniles,  was  less 
injurious  than  the  under-feeding  to  which  we  have 
adverted'  as  now  so  general?  Is  it  that  the  deli- 
cient  clothing  which  this  delusive  hardening  theory 
has  encouraged,  is  to  blame?  Is  it  that  the  greater 
or  less  discouragement  of  juvenile  sports,  in  defer- 
ence to  a  false  refinement,  is  the  cause?  From  our 
reasonings  it  may  be  inferred  that  each  of  these 
has  probably  had  a  share  in  producing  the  evil. 
But  there  has  been  yet  another  detrimental  in- 
fluence at  work,  perhaps  more  potent  than  any  of 
the  others:  we  mean — excess  of  mental  application. 

On  old  and  young,  the  pressure  of  modern  life 
puts  a  still-increasing  strain.  In  all  businesses  and 
professions,  intenser  competition  taxes  the  energies 
and  abilities  of  every  adult;  and,  with  the  view  of 
better  fitting  the  young  to  hold  their  place  under 
this  intenser  competition,  they  are  subject  to  a 
more  severe  discipline  than  heretofore.  The  dam- 
age is  thus  doubled.  Fathers,  who  find  not  only 
that  they  are  run  hard  by  their  multiplying  com- 
petitors, but  that,  while  labouring  under  this  dis- 
advantage, they  have  to  maintain  a  more  expensive 
style  of  living,  are  all  the  year  round  obliged  to 


270  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

work  early  and  late,  taking  little  exercise  and  get- 
ting but  short  holidays.  The  constitutions,  shaken 
by  this  long-continued  over-application,  they  be- 
queath to  their  children.  And  then  these  compara- 
tively feeble  children,  predisposed  as  they  are  to 
break  down  even  under  an  ordinary  stra'in  upon 
their  energies,  are  required  to  go  through  a  cur- 
riculum much  more  extended  than  that  prescribed 
for  the  unenfeebled  children  of  past  generations. 

That  disastrous  consequences  must  result  from 
this  .cumulative  transgression  might  be  predicted 
Avith  certainty;  and  that  they  do  result,  every  ob- 
servant persons  knows.  Go  where  you  will,  and 
before  long  there  come  under  your  notice  cases  of 
children,  or  youths,  of  either  sex,  more  or  less  in- 
jured by  undue  study.  Here,  to  recover  from  a 
state  of  debility  thus  produced,  a  year's  rustication 
has  been  found  necessary.  There  you  find  a 
chronic  congestion  of  the  brain,  that  has  already 
lasted  many  months,  and  threatens  to  last  much 
longer.  Xow  you  hear  of  a  fever  that  resulted 
from  the  over-excitement  in  some  way  brought  on 
at  school.  And,  again,  the  instance  is  that  of  a 
youth  who  has  already  had  once  to  desist  from  his 
studies,  and  who,  since  he  has  returned  to  them,  is 
frequently  taken  out  of  his  class  in  a  fainting  fit. 
^Ve  state  facts — facts  that  have  not  been  sought  for, 


MISCHIEFS  OF  OyER-APPLICATION".         277 

but  have  been  tbriist  upon  our  observation  during 
the  last  two  years:  and  that,  too,  within  a  very 
limited  range.  !N^or  have  we  by  any  means  ex- 
hausted the  list.  Quite  recently  we  had  the  op- 
portunity of  marking  how  the  evil  becomes  heredi- 
tary: the  case  being  that  of  a  lady  of  robust  paren- 
tage, whose  system  was  so  injured  by  the  regime  of 
a  Scotch  boarding-school,  ^vhere  she  was  under-fed 
and  over-worked,  that  she  invariably  suffers  from 
vertigo  on  rising  in  the  morning;  and  whose  chil- 
dren, inheriting  this  enfeebled  brain,  are  several  of 
them  unable  to  bear  even  a  moderate  amount  of 
study  without  headache  or  giddiness.  At  the  pres- 
ent time  w'e  have  daily  under  our  eyes,  a  young 
lady  whose  system  has  been  damaged  for  life  by 
the  college-course  through  which  she  has  passed. 
Taxed  as  she  was  to  such  an  extent  that  she  had  no 
energy  left  for  exercise,  she  is,  now  that  she  has 
finished  her  education,  a  constant  complainant. 
Appetite  small  and  very  capricious,  mostly  refusing 
meat;  extremities  perpetually  cold,  even  when  the 
weather  is  warm;  a  feebleness  which  forbids  any- 
thing but  the  slowest  walking,  and  that  only  for  a 
short  time;  palpitation  on  going  up  stairs;  greatly 
impaired  vision — these,  joined  with  checked  growth 
and  lax  tissue,  are  among  the  results  entailed.  And 
to  her  case  we  mav  add  that  of  her  friend  and  fel- 


278  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

low-stiident ;  who  is  similarly  weak;  who  is  liable 
to  faint  even  under  the  excitement  of  a  quiet  party 
of  friends;  and  who  has  at  length  been  obliged  by 
her  medical  attendant  to  desist  from  study  en- 
tirely. 

If  injuries  so  conspicuous  are  thus  frequent, 
how  very  general  must  be  the  smaller  and  incon- 
spicuous injuries.  To  one  case  where  positive  ill- 
ness is  directly  traceable  to  over-application,  there 
are  probably  at  least  half-a-dozen  cases  where  the 
evil  is  unobtrusive  and  slowly  accumulating — 
cases  where  there  is  frequent  derangement  of  the 
functions,  attributed  to  this  or  that  special  cause, 
or  to  constitutional  delicacy;  cases  where  there  is 
retardation  and  premature  arrest  of  bodily  growth; 
cases  where  a  latent  tendency  to  consumption  is 
brought  out  and  established;  cases  where  a  predis- 
position is  given  to  that  now  common  cerebral  dis- 
order brought  on  by  the  hard  work  of  adult  life. 
How  commonly  constitutions  are  thus  undermined, 
will  be  clear  to  all  who,  after  noting  the  frequent 
ailments  of  hard-worked  professional  and  mercantile 
men,  will  reflect  on  the  disastrous  effects  which 
undue  application  must  produce  upon  the  unde- 
veloped systems  of  the  young.  The  young  are 
competent  to  bear  neither  as  much  hardship,  nor  as 
much  physical  exertion,  nor  as  much  mental  exer- 


MISCHIEFS  OF  OVER-APPLICATION.         279 

tion,  as  the  full  grown.  Judge,  then,  if  the  full 
grown  so  manifestly  suffer  from  the  excessive  men- 
tal exertion  required  of  them,  how  great  must  be 
the  damage  which  a  mental  exertion,  often  equally 
excessive,  inflicts  upon  the  young! 

Indeed,  when  we  examine  the  merciless  school- 
drill  to  which  many  children  are  subjected,  the 
wonder  is,  not  that  it  does  great  injury,  but  that  it 
can  be  borne  at  all.  Take  the  instance  given  by 
Sir  John  Forbes  from  personal  knowledge;  and 
which  he  asserts,  after  much  inquiry,  to  be  an 
average  sample  of  the  middle-class  girl's-school  sys- 
tem throughout  England.  Omitting  the  detailed 
divisions  of  time,  we  quote  the  summary  of  the 
twenty-four  hours. 

In  bed 9  hours  (the  younger  10) 

In  school,  at  their  studies  and 

tasks 9     " 

In  school,  or  in  the  house,  the 

older  at  optional  studies  or 

the  work,  younger  at  play  .     3|  "      (the  younger  3^) 

At  meals li  " 

Exercise  in  the  open  air,  in  the 

shape    of    a    formal   walk, 

often  with  lesson-books  in 

hand,    and   even   this  only 

when  the  weather  is  fine  at 

the  appointed  time    .     .     .     1     " 

"24 


280  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

And  what  are  the  results  of  this  "  astounding 
regimen/'  as  Sir  John  Forbes  terms  it?  Of  course 
feebleness,  pallor,  want  of  spirits,  general  ill-health. 
But  he  describes  something  more.  This  utter  dis- 
regard of  physical  welfare,  out  of  extreme  anxiety 
to  cultivate  the  mind — this  prolonged  exercise  of 
the  brain  and  deficient  exercise  of  the  limbs, — he 
found  to  be  habitually  followed,  not  only  by  dis- 
ordered functions  but  by  malformation.  He  says: 
— "  We  lately  visited,  in  a  large  town,  a  boarding- 
school  containing  forty  girls;  and  we  learnt,  on 
close  and  accurate  inquiry,  that  there  was  not  one 
of  the  girls  who  had  been  at  the  school  two  years 
(and  the  majority  had  been  as  long)  that  was  not 
more  or  less  crooked!  "  * 

It  may  be  that  since  1833,  when  this  was  writ- 
ten, some  improvement  has  taken  place.  We  hope 
it  has.  But  that  the  system  is  still  common — nay, 
that  it  is  in  some  cases  carried  even  to  a  greater  ex- 
treme than  ever;  we  can  personally  testify.  We 
recently  went  over  a  training  college  for  young 
men:  one  of  those  instituted  of  late  years  for 
the  purpose  of  supplying  schools  with  well-dis- 
ciplined teachers.  Here,  under  official  supervi- 
sion, where  something  better  than  the  judgment 
of     private     schoolmistresses     might     have     been 

*  Cyclopcedia  of  Practical  Medicine,  vol.  i.  pp.  697,  698. 


TIME  DEVOTED  TO  STUDY.  281 

looked  for,  we  found  the  daily  routine  to  be  as 
follows : — 

At  6  o'clock  the  students  are  called, 
"  7  to  8  studies, 

"  8  to  9  scripture  reading,  prayers,  and  breakfast, 
*'  9  to  12  studies, 
"  12  to  IJ  leisure,   nominally   devoted   to  walking  or 

other  exercise,  but  often  spent  in  study. 
"  IJ  to  2  dinner,  the  meal  commonly  occupying  twenty 

minutes, 
"  2  to  5  studies, 
*'  5  to  6  tea  and  relaxation, 
*'  6  to  8i  studies, 
"  8|^  to  9^  private  studies  in  preparing  lessons  for  the 

next  day, 
"  10  to  bed. 

Thus,  out  of  the  twenty-four  hours,  eight  are 
devoted  to  sleep ;  four  and  a  quarter  are  occupied  in 
dressing,  prayers,  mealg,  and  the  brief  periods  of 
rest  accompanying  them;  ten  and  a  half  are  given 
to  study;  and  one  and  a  quarter  to  exercise,  which 
is  optional  and  often  avoided.  Not  only,  however, 
is  it  that  the  ten  and  a  half  hours  of  recognised 
study  are  frequently  increased  to  eleven  and  a  half 
by  devoting  to  books  the  time  set  apart  for  exercise ; 
but  some  of  the  students  who  are  not  quick  in  learn- 
ing, get  up  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  prepare 
their  lessons;  and  are  actually  encouraged  by  their 

teachers  to  do  this !    The  course  to  be  passed  through 
37 


2S2  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

in  a  given  time  is  so  extensive;  the  teachers,  whose 
credit  is  at  stake  in  getting  their  pupils  well  through 
the  examinations,  are  so  urgent;  and  the  difficulty 
of  satisfying  the  requirements  is  so  great;  that 
pupils  are  not  uncommonly  induced  to  spend  twelve 
and  thirteen  hours  a  day  in  mental  labour! 

It  needs  no  prophet  to  see  that  the  bodily  injury 
inflicted  must  be  great.  As  we  were  told  by  one 
of  the  inmates,  those  who  arrive  with  fresh  com- 
jilexions  quickly  become  blanched.  Illness  is  fre- 
quent: there  are  always  some  on  the  sick-list. 
Failure  of  appetite  and  indigestion  are  very  com- 
mon. Diarrhoea  is  a  prevalent  disorder:  not  un- 
commonly a  third  of  the  whole  number  of  students 
suifering  under  it  at  the  same  time.  Headache  is 
generally  complained  of;  and  by  some  is  borne  al- 
most daily  for  months.  While  a  certain  percent- 
age break  down  entirely  and  go  away. 

That  this  should  be  the  regimen  of  what  is  in 
some  sort  a  model  institution,  established  and  super- 
intended by  the  embodied  enlightenment  of  the 
age,  is  a  startling  fact.  That  the  severe  examina- 
tions, joined  with  the  short  period  assigned  for  prep- 
aration, should  practically  compel  recourse  to  a 
system  which  inevitably  undermines  the  health  of 
all  who  pass  through  it,  is  proof,  if  not  of  cruelty, 
then  of  wof  ul  ignorance. 


DANGERS  OF  OVER-EDUCATION.  283 

Doubtless  the  case  is  in  a  great  degree  excep- 
tional— perhaps  to  be  paralleled  only  in  other  insti- 
tutions of  the  same  class.  But  that  cases  so  extreme 
should  exist  at  all,  indicates  pretty  clearly  how 
great  is  the  extent  to  which  the  minds  of  the  rising- 
generation  are  overtasked.  Expressing  as  they  do 
the  ideas  of  the  educated  community,  these  training 
colleges,  even  in  the  absence  of  all  other  evidence, 
would  conclusively  imply  a  prevailing  tendency  to 
an  unduly  urgent  system  of  culture. 

It  seems  strange  that  there  should  be  so  little 
consciousness  of  the  dangers  of  over-education  dur- 
ing youth,  when  there  is  so  general  a  consciousness 
of  the  dangers  of  over-education  during  childhood. 
Most  parents  are  more  or  less  aware  of  the  evil  con- 
sequences that  follow  infant  precocity.  In  every 
society  may  be  heard  reprobation  of  those  who  too 
early  stimulate  the  minds  of  their  little  ones.  And 
the  dread  of  this  early  stimulation  is  great  in  pro- 
portion as  there  is  adequate  knowledge  of  the  ef- 
fects: witness  the  implied  opinion  of  one  of  our 
most  distinguished  professors  of  physiology,  who 
told  us  that  he  did  not  intend  his  little  boy  to  learn 
any  lessons  until  he  was  eight  years  old.  But  while 
to  all  it  is  a  familiar  truth  that  a  forced  develop- 
ment of  intelligence  in  cliildhood  entails  disastrous 
results — either  physical  feebleness,  or  ultimate  stu- 


284  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

pidity,  or  early  death — it  appears  not  to  be  per- 
ceived that  throughout  youth  the  same  truth  holds. 
Yet  it  is  certain  that  it  must  do  so.  There  is  a 
given  order  in  which,  and  a  given  rate  at  which, 
the  faculties  unfold.  If  the  course  of  education 
conforms  itself  to  that  order  and  rate,  well.  If 
not — if  the  higher  faculties  are  early  taxed  by 
presenting  an  order  of  knowledge  more  complex  and 
abstract  than  can  be  readily  assimilated;  or  if,  by 
excess  of  culture,  the  intellect  in  general  is  de- 
veloped to  a  degree  beyond  that  which  is  natural  to 
the  age;  the  abnormal  result  so  produced  will  in- 
evitably be  accompanied  by  some  equivalent,  or 
more  than  equivalent,  evil. 

For  N^ature  is  a  strict  accountant;  and  if  you 
demand  of  her  in  one  direction  more  than  she  is 
prcj)ared  to  lay  out,  she  balances  the  account  by 
making  a  deduction  elsewhere.  If  you  will  let  her 
follow  her  own  course,  taking  care  to  supply,  in 
right  quantities  and  kinds,  the  raw  materials  of 
bodily  and  mental  growth  required  at  each  age,  she 
will  eventually  produce  an  individual  more  or  less 
evenly  developed.  If,  however,  you  insist  on  pre- 
mature or  undue  growth  of  any  one  part,  she  will, 
with  more  or  less  protest,  concede  the  point;  but 
that  she  may  do  your  extra  work,  she  must  leave 
some  of  her  more  important  w'ork  undone.     Let  it 


VARIOUS  DRAUGHTS  UPON  THE  ENERGY.  285 

never  be  forgotten  that  the  amount  of  vital  energy 
which  the  body  at  any  moment  possesses  is  limited; 
and  that,  being  limited,  it  is  impossible  to  get  from 
it  more  than  a  fixed  quantity  of  results.  In  a  child 
or  youth  the  demands  upon  this  vital  energy  are 
various  and  urgent.  As  before  pointed  out,  the 
waste  consequent  on  the  day's  bodily  exercise  has 
to  be  repaired;  the  wear  of  brain  entailed  by  the 
day's  study  has  to  be  made  good;  a  certain  addi- 
tional growth  of  body  has  to  be  provided  for; 
and  also  a  certain  additional  growth  of  brain:  add 
to  which  the  amount  of  energy  absorbed  in  the  di- 
gestion of  the  large  quantity  of  food  required  for 
meeting  these  many  demands.  Xow,  that  to  divert 
an  excess  of  energy  into  any  one  of  these  channels 
is  to  abstract  it  from  the  others,  is  not  only  manifest 
a  priori;  but  may  be  shown  a  posteriori  from  the 
experience  of  every  one.  Every  one  knows,  for  in- 
stance, that  the  digestion  of  a  heavy  meal  makes 
such  a  demand  on  the  system  as  to  produce  lassi- 
tude of  mind  and  body,  ending  not  unfrequcntly  in 
sleep.  Every  one  knows,  too,  that  excess  of  bodily 
exercise  diminishes  the  power  of  thought — that  the 
temporary  prostration  following  any  sudden  exer- 
tion, or  the  fatigue  produced  by  a  thirty  miles' 
walk,  is  accompanied  by  a  disinclination  to  mental 
effort;  that,  after  a  month's  pedestrian  tour,  the 


286  PHYSICAL   EDUCATION. 

mental  inertia  is  snch  that  some  days  are  required 
to  overcome  it;  and  that  in  peasants  who  spend 
their  lives  in  muscular  labour  the  activity  of  mind 
is  very  small.  Again,  it  is  a  truth  familiar  to  all 
that  during  those  tits  of  extreme  rapid  growth 
which  sometimes  occur  in  childhood,  the  great  ab- 
straction of  energy  is  shown  in  the  attendant  pros- 
tration, bodily  and  mental.  Once  more,  the  facts 
that  violent  muscular  exertion  after  eating  will  stop 
digestion,  and  that  children  who  are  early  put  to 
hard  labour  Ixronie  stunted,  similarly  exhibit  the 
antagonism — similarly  imply  that  excess  of  activity 
in  one  direction  involves  deficiency  of  it  in  another 
direction.  Xow,  the  law  which  is  thus  manifest  in 
extreme  cases  holds  in  all  cases.  These  injurious 
abstractions  of  energy  as  certainly  take  place  when 
the  undue  demands  are  slight  and  constant,  as  when 
they  are  great  and  sudden.  Hence,  if  in  youth, 
the  expenditure  in  mental  labour  exceeds  that  which 
nature  had  provided  for;  the  expenditure  for  other 
purposes  falls  below  what  it  should  have  been :  and 
evils  of  one  kind  or  other  are  inevitably  entailed. 
Let  us  briefly  consider  these  evils. 

Supposing  the  over-activity  of  brain  not  to  be 
extreme,  but  to  exceed  the  normal  activity  only  in 
a  moderate  degree,  there  wall  be  nothing  more  than 
some  slight  reaction .  on   the  development   of  the 


ANTAGONISM  OP  GROWTH  AND  DEVELOPMENT.  287 

body:  the  stature  falling  a  little  below  that  which 
it  would  else  have  reached;  or  the  bulk  being  less 
than  it  would  have  been;  or  the  quality  of  tissue 
being  not  so  good.  One  or  more  of  these  effects 
must  necessarily  occur.  The  extra  cjuantity  of 
blood  supplied  to  the  brain,  not  only  during  the 
period  of  mental  exertion,  but  during  the  subse- 
quent period  in  which  the  waste  of  cerebral  sub- 
stance is  being  made  good,  is  blood  that  would  else 
have  been  circulating  through  the  limbs  and  vis- 
cera ;  and  the  amount  of  gTowth  or  repair  for  which 
that  blood  would  have  supplied  materials,  is  lost. 
This  physical  reaction  being  certain,  the  question 
is,  whether  the  gain  resulting  from  the  extra  cul- 
ture is  equivalent  to  the  loss? — whether  defect  of 
bodily  growth,  or  the  want  of  that  structural  per- 
fection which  gives  high  vigour  and  endurance,  is 
compensated  for  by  the  additional  knowledge 
gained  ? 

When  the  excess  of  mental  exertion  is  greater, 
there  follow  results  far  more  serious;  telling  not 
only  against  bodily  perfection,  but  against  the  per- 
fection of  the  brain  itself.  It  is  a  physiological 
law,  first  pointed  out  by  M.  Isidore  St.  Hilaire,  and 
to  which  attention  has  been  drawn  by  Mr.  Lewes 
in  his  essay  on  Diuarfs  and  Giants,  that  there  is 
an  antagonism  between  growth  and  development. 


288  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

By  growth,  as  used  in  this  antithetical  sense,  is  to 
be  understood  increase  of  size;  by  development, 
increase  of  structure.  And  the  law  is,  that  great 
activity  in  either  of  these  processes  involves  retar- 
dati(>n  or  arrest  of  the  other.  A  familiar  illustra- 
tion is  furnished  by  the  cases  of  the  caterpillar  and 
the  chrysalis.  In  the  caterpillar  there  is  extremely 
rapid  augmentation  of  bulk;  but  the  structure  is 
scarcely  at  all  more  complex  when  the  caterpillar 
is  full-grown  than  when  it  is  small.  In  the  chrysa- 
lis the  bulk  does  not  increase;  on  the  contrary, 
weight  is  lost  during  this  stage  of  the  creature's  life; 
but  the  elaboration  of  a  more  complex  structure 
goes  on  with  great  activity.  The  antagonism, 
here  so  clear,  is  less  traceable  in  higher  creatures, 
because  the  two  processes  are  carried  on  together.' 
But  we  see  it  pretty  well  illustrated  among  our- 
selves by  contrasting  the  sexes.  A.  girl  develops 
in  body  and  mind  rapidly,  and  ceases  to  grow  com- 
paratively early.  A  boy's  bodily  and  mental  de- 
velopment is  slower,  and  his  growth  greater.  At 
the  age  when  the  one  is  mature,  finished,  and  hav- 
ing all  faculties  in  full  play,  the  other,  whose  vital 
energies  have  been  more  directed  towards  increase 
of  size,  is  relatively  incomplete  in  structure;  and 
shows  it  in  a  comparative  awkwardness,  bodily  and 
mental.     Now  this  law  is  true  not   only  of  the 


EFFECTS  OF  CEREBRAL  EXCITEMENT.      289 

organism  as  a  whole,  but  of  each  separate  part. 
The  abnormally  rapid  advance  of  any  part  in  re- 
spect of  structure  involves  premature  arrest  of  its 
growth;  and  this  happens  with  the  organ  of  the 
mind  as  certainly  as  with  any  other  organ.  The 
brain,  which,  during  early  years  is  relatively  large 
in  mass  but  imperfect  in  structure  will,  if  required 
to  perform  its  functions  with  undue  activity,  under- 
go a  structural  advance  greater  than  is  appropriate 
to  the  age;  but  the  ultimate  effect  will  be  a  falling 
short  of  the  size  and  power  that  would  else  have 
been  attained.  And  this  is  a  part  cause — probably 
the  chief  cause — why  precocious  children,  and 
youths  who  up  to  a  certain  time  were  carrying  all 
before  them,  so  often  stop  short  and  disappoint  the 
high  hopes  of  their  parents. 

But  these  results  of  over-education,  disastrous 
as  they  are,  are  perhaps  less  disastrous  than  the  re- 
sults produced  upon  the  health — the  undermined 
constitution,  the  enfeebled  energies,  the  morbid 
feelings,  Kecent  discoveries  in  physiology  have 
shown  how  immense  is  the  influence  of  the  brain 
over  the  functions  of  the  body.  The  digestion  of 
the  food,  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  and  through 
these  all  other  organic  processes,  are  profoundly 
affected  by  cerebral  excitement.  Whoever  has 
seen  repeated,  as  we  have,  the  experiment  first  per- 


290  PHYSICAL   EDUCATION. 

formed  by  Weber,  showing  the  consequence  of 
irritating  the  vagus  nerve  which  connects  the  brain 
with  the  viscera — whoever  has  seen  the  action  of 
the  heart  suddenly  arrested  by  the  irritation  of  this 
nerve;  slowly  recommencing  when  the  irritation  is 
suspended;  and  again  arrested  the  moment  it  is  re- 
newed ;  will  have  a  vivid  conception  of  the  depress- 
ing influence  which  an  over-wrought  brain  exer- 
cises on  the  body.  The  effects  thus  physiologically 
explained,  are  indeed  exemplified  in  ordinary  ex- 
perience. There  is  no  one  but  has  felt  the  palpita- 
tion accompanying  hope,  fear,  anger,  joy — no  one 
but  has  observed  how  laboured  becomes  the  action 
of  the  heart  when  these  feelings  are  very  violent. 
And  though  there  are  many  who  have  never  them- 
selves suffered  that  extreme  emotional  excitement 
which  is  followed  by  arrest  of  the  heart's  action 
and  fainting;  yet  every  one  knows  them  to  be 
cause  and  effect.  It  is  a  familiar  fact,  too,  that  dis- 
turbance of  the  stomach  is  entailed  by  mental  ex- 
citement exceeding  a  certain  intensity.  Loss  of 
appetite  is  a  common  result  alike  of  very  pleasura- 
ble and  very  painful  states  of  mind.  When  the 
event  producing  a  pleasurable  or  painful  state  of 
mind  occurs  shortly  after  a  meal,  it  not  unfrequent- 
ly  happens  either  that  the  stomach  rejects  what  has 
been  eaten,  or  digests  it  with  great  difficulty  and 


DANGEROUS  EFFECTS  OF  OVER-STUDY.    291 

under  prolonged  protest.  And  as  every  one  who 
taxes  his  brain  jniich  can  testify,  even  purely  intel- 
lectual action  will,  when  excessive,  produce  analo- 
gous effects.  Xow  the  relation  between  brain  and 
body  which  is  so  manifest  in  these  extreme  cases, 
holds  equally  in  ordinary,  less-marked  cases.  Just 
as  these  violent  but  temporary  cerebral  excitements 
produce  violent  but  temporary  disturbances  of  the 
viscera;  so  do  the  less  violent  but  chronic  cerebral 
excitements,  produce  less  violent  but  chronic  visce- 
ral disturbances.  This  is  not  simply  an  inference 
— it  is  a  truth  to  which  every  medical  man  can 
bear  witness;  and  it  is  one  to  which  a  long  and  sad 
experience  enables  us  to  give  personal  testimony. 
Various  degrees  and  forms  of  bodily  derangement, 
often  taking  years  of  enforced  idleness  to  set  par- 
tially right,  result  from  this  prolonged  over-exer- 
tion of  mind.  Sometimes  the  heart  is  chiefly  af- 
fected: habitual  palpitations;  a  pulse  much  en- 
feebled; and  very  generally  a  diminution  in  the 
number  of  beats  from  seventy-two  to  sixty,  or  even 
fewer.  Sometimes  the  conspicuous  disorder  is  of 
the  stomach:  a  dyspepsia  Avhich  makes  life  a  bur- 
den, and  is  amenable  to  no  remedy  but  time.  In 
many  cases  both  heart  and  stomach  are  implicated. 
Mostly  the  sleep  is  short  and  broken.  And  very 
generally  there  is  more  or  less  mental  depression. 


292  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

Consider,  then,  how  great  must  be  the  damage 
inflicted  by  undue  mental  excitement  on  children 
and  youths.  More  or  less  of  this  constitutional  dis- 
turbance will  inevitably  follow  an  exertion  of  brain 
beyond  that  which  nature  had  provided  for;  and 
when  not  so  excessive  as  to  produce  absolute  illness, 
is  sure  to  entail  a  slowly  accumulating  degeneracy 
of  physique.  With  a  small  and  fastidious  appetite, 
an  imperfect  digestion,  and  an  enfeebled  circula- 
tion, how  can  the  developing  body  flourish?  The 
due  performance  of  'every  vital  process  depends  on 
the  adequate  supply  of  good  blood.  Without 
enough  good  blood,  no  gland  can  secrete  properly, 
no  viscus  can  fully  discharge  its  office.  Without 
enough  good  blood,  no  nerve,  muscle,  membrane, 
or  other  tissue  can  be  efficiently  repaired.  With- 
out enough  good  blood,  growth  will  neither  be 
sound  nor  sufficient.  Judge,  then,  how  bad  must 
be  the  consequences  when  to  a  growing  body  the 
weakened  stomach  supplies  blood  that  is  deficient 
in  quantity  and  poor  in  quality;  while  the  debili- 
tated heart  propels  this  poor  and  scanty  blood  with 
unnatural  slowness. 

And  if,  as  all  who  candidly  investigate  the 
matter  must  admit,  physical  degeneracy  is  a  conse- 
quence of  excessive  study,  how  grave  is  the  con- 
demnation to  be  passed  upon  this  cramming  system 


DANGEROUS  EFFECTS  OF  OVER-STUDY.    293 

above  exemplified.  It  is  a  terrible  mistake,  from 
whatever  point  of  view  regarded.  It  is  a  mistake 
in  so  far  as  the  mere  acquirement  of  knowledge  is 
concerned:  for  it  is  notorious  that  the  mind,  like 
the  body,  cannot  assimilate  beyond  a  certain  rate; 
and  if  you  ply  it  with  facts  faster  than  it  can  assimi- 
late them,  they  are  very  soon  rejected  again;  they 
do  not  become  permanently  built  into  the  intellec- 
tual fabric;  but  fall  out  of  recollection  after  the 
passing  of  the  examination  for  which  they  were 
got  up.  It  is  a  mis^ke,  too;  because  it  tends  to 
make  study  distasteful.  Either  through  the  pain- 
ful associations  produced  by  ceaseless  mental 
toil,  or  through  the  abnormal  state  of  brain  it  leaves 
behind,  it  often  generates  an  aversion  to  books; 
and,  instead  of  that  subsequent  self -culture  induced 
by  a  rational  education,  there  comes  a  continued 
retrogression.  It  is  a  mistake,  also,  inasmuch  as  it 
assumes  that  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  is  every- 
thing; and  forgets  that  a  much  more  important 
matter  is  the  organization  of  knowledge,  for  which 
time  and  spontaneous  thinking  are  requisite.  Just 
as  Humboldt  remarks  respecting  the  progress  of 
intelligence  in  general,  that  "  the  interpretation  of 
nature  is  obscured  when  the  description  languishes 
under  too  great  an  accumulation  of  insulated 
facts;  "  so  it  may  be  remarked,  respecting  the  prog- 


294  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

ress  of  individual  intelligence,  that  the  mind  is 
overburdened  and  hampered  by  an  excess  of  ill- 
digested  information.  It  is  not  the  knowledge 
stored  up  as  intellectual  fat  which  is  of  value;  but 
that  which  is  turned  into  intellectual  muscle.  But 
the  mistake  is  still  deeper.  Even  were  the  system 
good  as  a  system  of  intellectual  training,  wdiich  it 
is  not,  it  would  still  be  bad,  because,  as  we  have 
shown,  it  is  fatal  to  that  vigour  of  physique  which 
is  needful  to  make  intellectual  training  available  in 
the  struggle  of  life.  Those^who,  in  eagerness  to 
cultivate  their  puj)ils'  minds,  are  reckless  of  their 
bodies,  do  not  remember  that  success  in  the  world 
depends  much  more  upon  energy  than  upon  infor- 
mation; and  that  a  policy  which  in  cramming  with 
information  undermines  energy,  is  self-defeating. 
The  strong  will  and  untiring  activity  which  result 
from  abundant  animal  vigour,  go  far  to  compensate 
even  for  great  defects  of  education;  and  when 
joined  with  that  quite  adequate  education  which 
may  be  obtained  without  sacrificing  health,  they 
ensure  an  easy  victory  over  competitors  enfeebled  by 
excessive  study:  prodigies  of  learning  though  they 
may  be.  A  comparatively  small  and  ill-made  en- 
gine, worked  at  high-pressure,  w'ill  do  more  than  a 
larger  and  well-finished  one  worked  at  low-pressure. 
What  folly  is  it,  then,  while  finishing  the  engine, 


THE  PRICELESS  BLESSING  OP  HEALTH.    295 

SO  to  damage  the  boiler  that  it  will  not  generate 
steam!  Once  more,  the  system  is  a  mistake,  as  in- 
Tohdng  a  false  estimate  of  welfare  in  life.  Even 
supposing  it  were  a  means  to  worldly  success,  in- 
stead of  a  means  to  worldly  failure,  yet,  in  the  en- 
tailed ill-health,  it  would  inflict  a  more  than 
equivalent  curse.  AVhat  boots  it  to  have  obtained" 
wealth,  if  the  wealth  is  accompanied  by  ceaseless 
ailments?  What  is  the  worth  of  distinction,  if  it 
has  brought  liypochondria  with  it?  Surely  none 
needs  telling  that  a  good  digestion,  a  bounding 
pulse,  and  high  spirits  are  elements  of  happiness 
w^hich  no  external  advantages  can  outbalance. 
Chronic  bodily  disorder  casts  a  gloom  ovet  the 
brightest  prospects;  while  the  vivacity  of  strong- 
health  gilds  even  misfortune.  "\Ve  contend,  then, 
that  this  over-education  is  vicious  in  every  way — 
vicious,  as  giving  knowledge  that  will  soon  be  for- 
gotten; vicious,  as  producing  a  disgust  for  knowl- 
edge; vicious,  as  neglecting  that  organization  of 
knowledge  which  is  more  important  than  its  ac- 
quisition; vicious,  as  weakening  or  destroying  that 
energy,  without  which  a  trained  intellect  is  useless; 
vicious,  as  entailing  that  ill-health  for  which  even 
success  would  not  compensate,  and  wdiicli  makes 
failure  doubly  bitter. 

On  women  the  effects  of  this  forcing  system  are, 


296  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

if  possible,  even  more  injurious  than  on  men.  Be- 
ing in  great  measure  debarred  from  those  vigorous 
and  enjoyable  exercises  of  body  by  which  boys 
mitigate  the  evils  of  excessive  study,  girls  feed  these 
evils  in  their  full  intensity.  Hence,  the  much 
smaller  proportion  of  them  who  grow  up  well  made 
and  healthy.  In  the  pale,  angular,  flat-chested 
young  ladies,  so  abundant  in  London  drawing- 
rooms,  we  see  the  effect  of  merciless  application,  un- 
relieved by  youthful  sports;  and  this  physical  de- 
generacy exhibited  by  them,  hinders  their  welfare 
far  more  than  their  many  accomplishments  aid  it. 
Mammas  anxious  to  make  their  daughters  attrac- 
tive, could  scarcely  choose  a  course  more  fatal  than 
this,  which  sacrifices  the  body  to  the  mind.  Either 
they  disregard  the  tastes  of  the  opposite  sex,  or  else 
their  conception  of  those  tastes  is  erroneous.  Men 
care  comparatively  little  for  erudition  in  women; 
but  very  much  for  physical  beauty,  and  goodnature, 
and  sound  sense.  How  many  conquests  does  the 
blue-stocking  make  through  her  extensive  knowl- 
edge of  history?  What  man  ever  fell  in  love  with 
a  woman  because  she  understood  Italian?  AVhere 
is  the  Edwin  who  was  brought  to  Angelina's  feet  by 
her  German?  But  rosy  cheeks  and  laughing  eyes 
are  great  attractions.  A  finely  rounded  figure 
draws  admiring  glances.     The  liveliness  and  good 


ELEMENTS  OF  FEMININE  ATTRACTION.     297 

humour  that  overflowing  health  produces,  go  a 
great  way  towards  establishing  attachments. 
Every  one  knows  cases  where  bodily  perfections,  in 
the  absence  of  all  other  recommendations,  have  in- 
cited a  passion  that  carried  all  before  it ;  but  scarce- 
ly any  one  can  point  to  a  case  where  mere  intellec- 
tual acquirements,  apart  from  moral  or  physical  at- 
tributes, have  aroused  such  a  feeling.  The  truth  is 
that,  out  of  the  many  elements  uniting  in  various 
proportions  to  produce  in  a  man's  breast  that  com- 
plex emotion  which  we  call  love,  the  strongest  arc 
those  produced  by  physical  attractions;  the  next  in 
order  of  strength  are  those  produced  by  moral  at- 
tractions; the  weakest  are  those  produced  by  intel- 
lectual attractions;  and  even  these  are  dependent 
much  less  upon  acquired  knowledge  than  on  natural 
faculty — quickness,  wit,  insight.  If  any  think  the 
assertion  a  derogatory  one,  and  inveigh  against  the 
masculine  character  for  being  thus  swayed;  we  re- 
ply that  they  little  know  what  they  say  when  they 
thus  call  in  question  the  Divine  ordinations.  Even 
were  there  no  obvious  meaning  in  the  arrangement, 
we  might  be  sure  that  some  important  end  was  sub- 
served. But  the  meaning  is  quite  obvious  to  those 
who  examine.  It  needs  but  to  remember  that  one 
of  Nature's  ends,  or  rather  her  supreme  end,  is  the 

welfare  of  posterity — it  needs  but  to  remember  that, 
39 


298  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

in  so  far  as  posterity  are  concerned,  a  cultivated  in- 
telligence based  upon  a  bad  physique  is  of  little 
worth,  seeing  that  its  descendants  will  die  out  in  a 
generation  or  two — it  needs  but  to  bear  in  mind 
that  a  good  physique,  however  poor  the  accompa- 
nying mental  endowments,  is  worth  preserving,  be- 
cause, throughout  future  generations,  the  mental 
endowments  may  be  indefinitely  developed — it 
needs  but  to  contemplate  these  truths,  to  see  how 
important  is  the  balance  of  instincts  above  de- 
scribed. But,  purpose  apart,  the  instincts  being 
thus  balanced,  it  is  a  fatal  folly  to  persist  in  a  sys- 
tem which  undermines  a  girl's  constitution  that  it 
may  overload  her  memory.  Educate  as  highly  as 
possible — the  higher  the  better — providing  no  bod- 
ily injury  is  entailed  (and  we  may  remark,  in  pass- 
ing, that  a  high  standard  might  be  so  reached  were 
the  parrot-faculty  cultivated  less,  and  the  human 
faculty  more,  and  were  the  discipline  extended  over 
that  now  wasted  period  between  leaving  school  and 
being  married).  But  to  educate  in  such  manner, 
or  to  such  extent,  as  to  produce  physical  degeneracy, 
is  to  defeat  the  chief  end  for  which  the  toil  and  cost 
and  anxiety  are  submitted  to.  By  subjecting  their 
daughters  to  this  high-pressure  system,  parents  fre- 
quently ruin  their  prospects  in  life.  !N^ot  only  do 
they  inflict  on  them  enfeebled  health,  mth  all  its 


ERRORS  OF  THE  PREVALENT  SYSTEM.     299 

pains  and  disabilities  and  gloom;  but  very  often 
they  actually  doom  them  to  celibacy. 

Our  general  conclusion  is,  then,  that  the  ordi- 
nary treatment  of  children  is,  in  various  ways,  se- 
riously prejudicial.  It  errs  in  deficient  feeding; 
in  deficient  clothing;  in  deficient  exercise  (among 
girls  at  least) ;  and  in  excessive  mental  application. 
Considering  the  regime  as  a  whole,  its  tendency  is 
too  exacting:  it  asks  too  much  and  gives  too  little. 
In  the  extent  to  which  it  taxes  the  vital  energies,  it 
makes  the  juvenile  life  much  more  like  the  adult 
life  than  it  should  be.  It  overlooks  the  truth  that, 
as  in  the  foetus  the  entire  vitality  is  expended  in 
the  direction  of  growth — as  in  the  infant,  the  ex- 
penditure of  vitality  in  growth  is  so  great  as  to 
leave  extremely  little  for  either  physical  or  mental 
action;  so  throughout  childhood  and  youth  growth 
is  the  dominant  requirement  to  which  all  others 
must  be  subordinated:  a  requirement  which  dic- 
tates the  giving  of  much  and  the  taking  away  of 
little — a  requirement  which,  therefore,  restricts  the 
exertion  of  body  and  mind  to  a  degree  proportionate 
to  the  rapidity  of  growth — a  requirement  which 
permits  the  mental  and  physical  activities  to  in- 
crease only  as  fast  as  the  rate  of  growth  diminishes. 

Regarded  from  another  point  of  view,  this  high- 


300  PHYSICAL  EDUCATION. 

pressure  education  manifestly  results  from  our  pass- 
ing phase  of  civilization.  In  primitive  times,  when 
aggression  and  defence  were  the  leading  social  ac- 
tivities, bodily  vigour  with  its  accompanying  cour- 
age were  the  desiderata;  and  then  education  was 
almost  wholly  physical:  mental  cultivation  was  lit- 
tle cared  for,  and  indeed,  as  in  our  own  feudal  ages, 
was  often  treated  with  contempt.  But  now  that 
our  state  is  relatively  peaceful — now  that  nuiscular 
power  is  of  use  for  little  else  than  manual  labour, 
while  social  success  of  nearly  every  kind  depends 
very  much  on  mental  power;  our  education  has 
become  almost  exclusively  mental.  Instead  of  re- 
specting the  body  and  ignoring  the  mind,  we  now 
respect  the  mind  and  ignore  the  body.  Both  these 
attitudes  are  wrong.  "VVe  do  not  yet  sufficiently 
realize  the  truth  that  as,  in  this  life  of  ours,  the 
physical  underlies  the  mental,  the  mental  must  not 
be  developed  at  the  expense  of  the  physical.  The 
ancient  and  modern  conceptions  must  be  combined. 
Perhaps  nothing  will  so  much  hasten  the  time 
when  body  and  mind  will  both  be  adequately  cared 
for,  as  a  diffusion  of  the  belief  that  the  preserva- 
tion of  health  is  a  duty.  Few  seem  conscious  that 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  physical  morality.  Men's 
habitual  words  and  acts  imply  the  idea  that  they 
are  at  liberty  to  treat  their  bodies  as  they  please. 


PHYSTCAL  IMMORALITIES  AND  SINS.        301 

Disorders  entailed  by  disobedience  to  Nature's  dic- 
tates, tbey  regard  simply  as  grievances:  not  as  the 
effects  of  a  conduct  more  or  less  flagitious.  Thougli 
the  evil  consequences  inflicted  on  their  dependents, 
and  on  future  generations,  are  often  as  great  as 
those  caused  by  crime;  yet  they  do  not  think  them- 
selves in  any  degree  criminal.  It  is  true,  that,  in 
the  case  of  drunkenness,  the  viciousness  of  a  purely 
bodily  transgression  is  recognised;  but  none  ap- 
pear to  infer  that,  if  this  bodily  transgression  is 
vicious,  so  too  is  every  bodily  transgression.  The 
fact  is,  that  all  breaches  of  the  laws  of  health  are 
physical  sins.  When  this  is  generally  seen,  then, 
and  perhaps  not  till  then,  will  the  physical  training 
of  the  young  receive  all  the  attention  it  deserves. 


THE    END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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